Breaking Catwoman
by evildragonlord101
Summary: Catwoman's downward spiral into slavery
1. Chapter 1

Breaking Catwoman

Selina Kyle stopped flipping through a glossy magazine about the life-style of the super-rich and famous. Her green eyes, heavily lined in black with eye-lashes extended by thick mascara, focused intently on a picture in the magazine, her thin eyebrows knitting together in a soft frown.

"What in the world is that?" she asked, more to herself than anyone else, given the fact that she was alone in her apartment.

What Selina saw was the picture of a man standing next to a little statue. What caught her eye was its cat-like shape. The next thing that caught her eye was that it is made of gold, with diamonds liberally placed all over it. The caption read, "Mr Jonathan Smith with one of his heirlooms, a statue of a cat made by the great artist ..."

By then, the infamous alter ego of Selina – the skilled burglar who called herself the Catwoman - had lost interest. She was looking intently at all the pictures taken of the mansion that Mr Smith calls his little bachelor's pad. She also noted the helpful detail that Mr Smith will be attending a charity ball thrown the very next day organized by the wealthy playboy, Wayne, in the Gotham City Zoo, to help raise fund for its proposed wild cats enclosure, then under construction.

The article did not give an address for Mr Smith's place, of course, but it did mention it was in an exclusive district of Gotham City. There were not many of those in Gotham City nowadays. A quick reference to the city directory told Catwoman that the house could only be in one area of the city. It was time for a little footwork.

Catwoman sat up from her lounging posture on the large king-sized bed in her 'hide-out' – in truth, a luxury penthouse in an apartment building high above Gotham City's streets, bought by the ill-gotten gains of her life of crime. She was still dressed in her night-wear, which consisted entirely of a black lacy thong. She wore no bra to restrain her breasts, which – while they were not overly large – were firm and perky, with her light brown nipple pointed provocatively forward at their tips. As she stretched her long lithe body, they juggled slightly to her movement.

Catwoman got off the bed and walked towards her walk-in wardrobe. Her body – sculpted and horned through hours of work-out in weights, running, rock-climbing, hand-to-hand combat training – was lean but well-toned. The hint of hardness in her long limbs did not mar the femininity of her figure, with its hour-glass silhouette, with a narrow waist which flared out to form wide and well-rounded hips.

Selecting a black lacy bra from a drawer in the wardrobe, Catwoman hooked it up behind her back, before shuffling the elastic band of the bra up, and fitted each of her breasts in turn into the appropriate cup. When she slipped the elastic shoulder straps of the bra over her shoulders, the cups shoved her breasts together to form a deep cleavage.

Next, Catwoman selected an expensive looking dress out of the many she had hanging in her wardrobe. She knew that she had to look the part of a socialite to look as if she belonged to the area she was going to visit. It was a black silky number with a plunging neck-line that showed off her cleavage as she knelt down to select a pair of high-heeled pumps.

Then, standing up, Catwoman took a quick glance at her hair and make-up, which she had already done in anticipation of a day of shopping – plans which would now be deferred for work. Her raven black hair was cut short into a rather manly hairstyle, which nonetheless served to show off her face, with its high cheek-bones, straight nose and sensually thick lips, the latter of which was painted a glossy cherry red.

Within ten minutes, Catwoman had taken the private lift down from her penthouse to the underground garage, climbed into her Jaguar, and was roaring eastward within half an hour. Within an hour, she had located the house from a picture of the front of the house, given helpfully by the magazine. A feature that helped her identified the house was a small blue box mounted near the door that gave the name of the security firm he used. The same blue box was quite visible from outside the tall iron gates of the house.

She had gotten out of her car, put on a really large and ridiculous looking hat that at the same time hid her features from plying eyes, and went up to the gate. She pressed a buzzer several times, but there was no response. She then tried rattling the gate, and waited. There did not seem to be any roaming guard-dogs - they would have made an appearance by now. The gate did not seem to be wired either. She rattled hard enough to set off any alarm, and no one had turned up. She knew that she could scale the gates in five seconds flat. She glanced around at the neighbouring houses, and satisfied herself that the gates could not be easily seen from those houses because of the large hedges on both sides serving as fences. What she needed was a precise plan of the security system for the house.

She had those by the next morning. The moment she got back from her first recce, she got in touch with one of her many 'business associates', and had him hacked into the computer of the security firm protecting the mansion. Before the night was over, he had retrieved the necessary plans without Catwoman even having to leave her penthouse.

Catwoman looked through the plans carefully on the three large monitors of her iMac computer. They were extremely detailed and she was almost disappointed to see that the security would be minimal. She had expected that such a rich man would have paid for strong security to protect his own abode, but instead, he had chosen only a basic package. There was no armed guards, no fierce dogs, not even sensors in the garden.

The only line of defence was wired windows and doors, using contact breakers - something she knew how to disarm blindfolded. The location of the safe was almost a cliché, being hidden in a room behind a bookshelf.

Catwoman took a moment to ponder how the advance of technology had taken the challenge out of high larceny. It used to be a process where skills were important and had to be highly horned. Nowadays, a simple computer hacking job would provide everything a burglar would need to just waltz in and take what she needed. It had become a decidedly white collar job … except, of course, that the actual physical act of breaking in and taking the loot was still required.

With the plans, Catwoman was all set for the night's activities. She took a long hot shower, during which she carefully scrub herself down to remove any dead skin material that might fall off during her burglary and provide DNA evidence. Then, she blew dry her hair, combing them back over the top of her head to keep her ears exposed. Finally, she expertly put on make-up, even though much of her face would soon be covered by her costume. She placed particular attention to her green eyes, lining them with extra thick black eye-liners, and painting her eyelids with dark purple eyeshadows, before putting on thick mascara over her eyelashes. These made her eyes even more stunning. Just as importantly, it also changed the outline of her eyes, making it more difficult to identify her through her eyes. To finish off, she put on a glossy cheery red lipstick on her thick lips.

Catwoman walked over to her wardrobe, and opened her underwear drawer. She chose another pair of black lacy thong panties, similar to the one she had worn earlier as she did not want to left any panty lines visible across her butt in her costume.

Then, Catwoman turned and opened a hidden compartment to the side of the wardrobe. Here was where she kept her work clothes, the costumes that had become her trademark. She had worn different styles over the years, as her fashion sense changed, but always, the costumes were skin-tight to show off her figure. She found that if she was caught red-headed by security, the guards would usually pause for a moment in surprise as they looked at her gorgeous body, more than enough for her to gain the advantage and fight her way out of trouble.

Catwoman had on occasions been caught on camera – usually the CCTVs of the places she robbed – in her costumes, and she took great pleasure in how the media would sensationalise her exploits and used the sexiest images of her that they could find. Indeed, she had acquired quite a fan club online.

Catwoman reached in and pulled out a costume. The rich aroma of rubber filled the air. A while back, she had worn a purple spandex cat-suit for most of her 'jobs'. It was comfortable, stretching to allow her the maximum freedom of movement. It also looked great on her body. However, the increasing use of modern forensics had forced Catwoman to retire it for something that would seal her more hermitically.

Instead, Catwoman nowadays wore a black latex costume that would cover her more thoroughly, sealing her body in to reduce any chance she would leave any DNA evidence behind. She first took out the black latex catsuit. It had a long zip that ran down the back, from the back of her head, all the way down to her crotch, before extending forward over her nether region and finally going up to her abdomen. It was a double ended zip, with zippers both at the front and the rear. This would make it easier for her to relief herself, if need be, while still in the costume, without having to undress almost entirely.

Pulling the top zipper down almost all the way to the crotch, she sat down on a bench before she fed her legs one by one into the costume. The interior of the latex garment had already been powdered to allow her limbs easy passage. She pulled the leggings of the catsuit up until her feet slipped into the sealed ends of the leggings. The leggings were bent at this point to form booties, with reinforced heels so that the soft latex would not wear out in the footwear she wore.

Catwoman stood up, lifting up the top of the garment before feeding her arms into the sleeves of the garment, one by one, and pulled the shoulders of the catsuit in place over her own. Again, they slipped in easily. Like the leggings, the ends of the sleeves were sealed, ending in built-in latex gloves. Catwoman inserted her digits into the fingers of the gloves and wriggled them until they fitted snuggly. When she was done, her entire body was almost entirely covered with black latex, from her long slender neck down to the soles of her feet, with the exception of the open back of the costume.

Catwoman now reached around back, and grasped the rear zipper with her gloved fingers. She pulled up the zipper first with her right hand from below, then transferred the zipper to her left hand from above, finally sealing her body entirely in the costume with the exception of her head.

Catwoman turned and picked up a pair of boots from the floor. These were made from glossy black PVC. She put them on, and pulled up the zips on the inner sides of her lower legs. The boots had fairly low spike heels – about three inches - for her taste, but more practical for physical activities, such as climbing or fighting. The tops hugged her lower legs tightly, accentuating their lean lengths.

When Catwoman was done, she admired herself briefly in the mirror. She examined her body critically for a moment, but decided that her daily regime of exercise had managed to keep the fat at bay. The latex that stretched over her body was almost like a second skin painted over every curve of her body, with the curvatures of her hips and breasts reflecting the lights in the wardrobe, emphasizing them in a most sexy way. Her breasts, encased in latex cups on the front of her costume, looked particularly enticing in their roundness, suspended high on her chest, hardly restrained with every slight move she made. Indeed, the thin latex material of the cups did not even shield her nipples, which poked out provocatively under the rubber.

There was still one last component, the cowl, which Catwoman did not put on. It would have been far too conspicuous to be running around with a latex mask – completed with pointy ears – on. Granted, Gotham City more than sees its fair share of costumed nutcases running around, but it's always best not to draw too much attention to oneself before and after the commissioning of a burglary.

Instead, Catwoman put on a rather chic looking leather biker jacket. She opened a drawer and retrieved two items – her mask and a pair of special goggles. She stuffed them into her pocket, took one final look in the full-length mirror to ensure that she looked okay, before striding out of her apartment through the private elevator.

The elevator took her straight down into the underground garage of the building. Standing next to her Jaguar was a well-muffled motor-cycle. It was a glossy black Ducanti that could easily out-run any police cruiser or bike. It had a false license plate so that it could not be traced to her even if seen at the scene of crime. She raised one long leg gracefully and swung it over the saddle of the bike. As she settled her beautiful buttocks onto the leather seat, the latex material of her costume squeaked softly. She then pulled on a helmet, started the beast, and was on her way.

Catwoman had gotten to the house just after one o'clock. She parked the bike right next to the gate, confident that its expensive, well-polished appearance would fool anyone into thinking that it belonged there.

Catwoman took out the cowl from her pocket. It was of one piece construction out of black elastic latex. It had two pointed ears on top. Most notably, its face had only two small eyeholes and two grommets where the nose would be, which meant that her face would be almost entirely sealed inside the cowl once she had put it on. This she did by rolling up the cowl from the neck up to the crown. She then pulled the cowl over her head, before unrolling the cowl down. The neck of the cowl was smaller than the upper portion, and fitted snugly under the chin of Catwoman, which – together with the high neck of the catsuit – prevented any gaps from opening between the cowl and the catsuit. The latex was pliable enough that an impression of her own face was formed vaguely on the face of the cowl, including the outline of her sensual lips.

Only Catwoman's heavily made-up green eyes peered out through two small eyeholes now. To cover them, and thus sealing off the last openings of her costume – aside from the grommets for her breathe, of course – and to prevent any errant eyelashes from falling out, Catwoman now proceeded to put on the goggles, sealing her body completely from the outside world.

The effect was certainly striking, especially once Catwoman had removed her jacket and stored it away in the storage compartment built into saddle seat, after first having pulled out her bullwhip. Wielding the whip, she looked every inch a fetish goddess.

Inside the costume, the heat was already beginning to build up, and every breath that Catwoman took was infused with the aroma of rubber. This more than aroused her a little, but she used that to help sharpen her senses as she walked towards the gates of the house, her buttocks swaying behind her from side to side, her breasts bouncing lightly, barely restrained by the bra she wore underneath.

When Catwoman reached the gates, she coiled the bullwhip she was holding around her waist, leaving a length of the tip to trail down behind the small of her back, down between her buttocks, rather like the tail of a cat.

Catwoman scaled the gate by the fourth second, was into the shadows by the fifth, and was at a window not visible to the street by the tenth second. By the twentieth second, she had cut a neat hole in a pane of glass with a glass cutting tool. She found the wiring for the contact breakers through the latex over her fingers, by passed them with an extension wire, and pushed up the window. Then she crawled through the opening on all fours, almost as if she was pouring herself through the narrow opening, first stretching her arms through the slit, then sliding her head in, before squeezing her upper chest with her mounds through, to be followed by her hips and buttocks, before reeling in her long legs. Each move she made was slick and graceful, even sensual, like black liquid pouring through the window.

Once Catwoman had slipped into the house, she took up a squatting position, with her folded legs spread open and her arms extended straight to the ground in front of her, like a cat, listening. There was a soft moan as the rubber on her upper arms rubbed against the rubber on the sides of her breasts. As she turned her head, the pointed ears on top of her cowl turned as well, as if they were the real ears. Indeed, the ears were fitted with sound amplification microphones to allow her to pick up the minutest sound, and yet filtered digitally to prevent loud sounds from overwhelming her hearing.

After squatting for a moment to see if there were any movement in the house, Catwoman reached up and flipped a small switch on her goggles, whose lenses swept up at their corners to resemble cat ears. Instantly, what she saw through them turned from darkness to a semi-bright grainy green. It was yet another high technology aid she had acquired. Both the lenses were fitted with a night vision amplification filter that boosted ambient light and allowed her to see in the dark.

Looking around, Catwoman was astonished to find that the owner of the house seemed to have at least as much of an obsession with cats as she does, with various statues, carvings, pictures and other art forms of cats, tigers, lions, and other felines littered throughout the study.

Some of the items actually rather struck Catwoman's fancy, but she quickly focused her mind on the task at hand on the ultimate object of her break-in. She stood up and strode up to a far wall lined with book shelves. Along the way, she noticed that the CCTV cameras mounted at strategic corners of the room, a factor that she had already taken into account from the plans. She knew that although the cameras recorded footages, they were not monitored in real-life, and would not lead to any outside intervention. Also, clad as she was in latex from head to toe, it would be difficult to identify her from the footages taken.

Catwoman went to the shelf identified by the stolen plans as the secret doorway to the room containing the safe. She quickly identified the hidden switch – again revealed in the plans - and pressed it. The shelf receded back until it cleared the other shelves to either side, before it slid to one side to reveal a doorway.

Catwoman stepped in through the doorway. In front of her was the safe. It had a good, old fashion tumbler lock. The security plans she had did not include the actual combination of the safe, but if there was one traditional burglary skill she had kept sharply honed, it was safe-cracking.

Catwoman got on her knees. The latex costume creaked softly as she moved. She ignored the heat inside the costume that was already making her wet with perspiration under the second skin and set to work. Within five minutes, she had defeated the tumblers, the latter with the aid of the digital enhanced hearing aid in her cowl. She swung the door open to reveal the object of her enterprise, the small little statue.

Purring contentedly to herself, she reached forward and grasped the statue. It really was a beauty. She stood up and stepped out of the room, examining it in the green glow of her goggles.

"You are every bit as beautiful as I had fantasised."

Catwoman spun around. Instantly, her right hand was on the thick braided grip of her bull whip. Swinging her right arm over her head, she uncoiled the whip in an instant, her right hand holding the handle up, ready to strike in an instant. Even as she was arming herself, she turned towards the direction of the voice.

Catwoman saw a dark figure standing in a corner of the room, barely perceptible even through the light amplification lenses of her goggles. How could she have missed him, she cursed. Her second thought was to wonder whether it was Batman, although the figure certainly did not have the bulk of that costumed crime-fighter.

"I'm afraid I do not like people to steal from me." The voice continued calmly even in the face of a latex clad female wielding a whip.

"Hmm. I assume you've called the police then?" Catwoman asked calmly, her voice muffled but still audible and comprehensible through the thin latex covering her mouth.

"I must say that I have not. I have always been eager to meet you, Catwoman. I certainly would not call the police on you and have our meeting cut short."

"I see." Catwoman said warily. This was getting weird, she thought. She retreated towards the open window from which she had come in.

"Leaving so soon?" the voice asked again, "I insist that you stay. We barely got to know each other. And I intend to get to know you quite well."

OK, that was really past weird! Catwoman thought as she inched towards the window.

"And how do you propose to stop me?" Catwoman asked, her voice now containing an element of threat.

"I'm afraid I've studied your methods quite thoroughly, and has set a cunning trap." The voice said.

"Which is?" Catwoman asked.

"A light switch."

Catwoman stopped, for a moment completely befuddled by what the man said. There was the sound of a click, and the room was flooded with bright light. The brightness smashed through her light amplification lenses, assaulting her visual senses. She physically jerked back, lifting her arms to shield her eyes even as she was temporarily blinded.

The next instant, Catwoman felt a powerful punch into her stomach. She felt the wind knocked out of her, and she bent forward. Then she felt a powerful slap across the left side of her face, and she fell to the floor on her right. She was still blinded, and now she was stunned by the twin assaults on her. She tried to sit up, but she felt another slap, this time on her right cheek, a powerful blow which knocked her to the left now.

Catwoman felt the bullwhip in her right hand being snatched away. She reached up to her goggles and ripped it off, even as her vision began to return, although most of her perception was blurred with red dots. She vaguely saw legs stretched up in front of her, but before she could do anything, one of the legs was lifted up, and a foot was shoved into her chest, just above her breasts. She fell onto her back. As she tried to roll out of her supine position, she felt the tip of a boot catch her right flank, and flipped on onto her front.

"Move Selina! MOVE!" Catwoman screamed at herself, but her body was sluggish after the sucker punch, the slaps and the kicks. She tried to lift herself up on her hands, but a crushing weight landed on the small of her back, pinning her hips to the floor. She felt her arms swept back and lifted high up into the air behind her back, pinning her shoulders to the floor.

"Urgh!" Catwoman let out a cry. She felt thighs pushed against her upper arms, pinning her arms in the upraised position. As her vision cleared further, she saw that she was now pinned to the floor of the study, which was now brightly lit. She still could not see her assailant, except for his knees. They were covered by denim fabric.

"As I said, I've always wanted to get to know you better." The man's voice said again, even as Catwoman struggled to get a good look at him.

"Fuck you!" Catwoman screamed in defiance.

"Oh dear, what a dirty mouth you have. We will have to do something about that, but for the time being, you'll have to be suitably silenced." The man on top of Catwoman said. Continuing to pin her arms in the upraised position with his thighs, the man took the end of her own whip and pulled the braided leather against the front of her cowl, where her mouth was underneath. The leather braid was forced deep into her mouth, pushing the elastic latex of her cowl in before it, such that a cleft of black latex was formed where her mouth was. When the man tied the end of the whip back to the main length of the whip, he very effective cleave-gagged the struggling thief pinned to the floor.

The man now pulled back on the rest of the whip, forcing Catwoman to lift up her head to look forward. He took her upraised arms and placed her elbows together. She felt him coil the whip around her upper arms once, just below her elbows, then tie it in place. When he released her arms, even though her wrists were not tied together, she found that there was very little she could do with her hands, bound as she was with her elbows painfully meshed together.

Turning around on Catwoman's back, but still using his weight to pin her down, the man unbuckled his broad leather belt. He looped the leather belt once around her left thigh, just above her knee, before pulling the ends over to her right knee. Feeding the buckled end under her right thigh, and pulling the tip over the limb, he mated up the two ends on the side of her right thigh, and constricted it until her knees were locked together, before he buckled the belt snuggly in place, imprisoning her two limbs together.

The man now got off Catwoman, but the female thief could not escape now, held as she was by improvised bonds around her elbows and her knees. Worse, the shortness of the length of the whip between the rear of her head and her bound elbows was such that she had to lift up her head uncomfortably. With the whip residing deep in her mouth and the latex of the cowl intervening between her throat and the outside world, she also found that she had been very effectively gagged. "MMMMMPH!" was all she managed as she struggled.

"Stand up!" Catwoman's captor commanded, pulling on the end of the whip, lifting up her bound elbows. This transmitted pressure down the whip to her gagged jaws, increasing her discomfort. She had no choice but to reluctantly climb onto her feet, a difficult process because of the way her knees were bound together. She had to sway her hips from side to side to get the momentum necessary for her to boost herself up onto her feet, her body's motion juggling her breasts from side to side. Even then, she stood unsteadily, her knees locked together and her arms twisted behind her back.

A figure walked around to her front, and Catwoman found herself looking at the owner of the house. He was a little shorter than she had imagined from the photographs in the magazine. Indeed, in her heels, he seemed a couple of inches shorter than she was. Nonetheless, he obviously had her at a disadvantage, bound and hobbled as she was.

"How does it feel to be bound with your own whip, Catwoman?" the man asked, a grin on his face. Indeed, his captive looked particularly enticing, given the way her bound elbows thrust her chest – with her two firm breasts - forward towards him.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman let out a gagged curse, the only retort she could give in her condition. Instantly, the man slapped her across her right cheek, sending her falling heavily onto the floor, moaning.

"I see that you're still rather untamed. We'll have to do something about that." The man said. He took the end of the whip again, and forced Catwoman up to a standing position once more, disregarding the gagged curses she was making under her cowl. Then, he pulled on the whip and walked towards a lamp suspended from the ceiling at the centre of the study. Catwoman felt her elbows being pulled towards the man, which forced her to turn physically away from him, and walk backwards, which added to the clumsiness of her movements enforced by her bound knees. She had to shuffle backwards with her buttocks swaying sharply from side to side as she struggled to keep up.

The lamp was an ornate one resembling a small chandelier. The bottom of the lamp had a D-ring wielded to it. The man now passed the end of the whip binding his latex clad captive through the ring and pulled it down. This forced Catwoman to raise her elbows upwards towards the lamp. The man kept pulling until her arms were lifted high up into the air, and the woman was forced to bend forward, raising her rump into the air.

The man now stepped back to admire his handiwork. Catwoman was every bit as sexy as he had imagined her to be, particularly when bound in her highly vulnerable strappado position. Her hard buttocks waved in the air, made all the more enticing by the way her legs were hobbled together. Her rotund breasts, restrained by the latex on the front of her costume, bounced lightly beneath her as she struggled futilely with her bonds. Finally, her crotch was pointed back, allowing him to see the impression of the crotch piece of her panties.

The man took out his iPhone from his pocket and switched it to the camcorder mode. Then began to walk around Catwoman, filming his captive in her humiliation as she struggled sinuously in her bondage.

"MMMMMMPH MMMMMMPH!" Catwoman swore again under her improvised gag when she realized that she was being filmed, but there was nothing she could do to stop the man.

The man folded back the flap of the leather casing of his phone to form a stand. He then placed his phone on the desk off to Catwoman's right. This allowed the phone to continue to record video without the man holding the phone. He now came up to his helpless captive and reached under her chest. He grasped both her breasts and squeezed hard.

"MMMMMPH!" Catwoman complained into her gag at the molestation, but was unable to stop him. She felt him begin to knead her fleshy mounds. He worked with expert effectiveness, caressing her breasts until – to her horror – she could feel herself becoming aroused. After a while, the man released her breasts and squatted down to look at them.

"My, my, your nipples are becoming engorged." The man said. Indeed, Catwoman could feel her nipples becoming sensitive and pressing against the rubber cups holding her breasts. She could only glance sideways at the man with hatred.

The man stood up and walked around behind Catwoman's upraised rump. She felt a hand brush against her crotch through the latex of her catsuit and the material of her panties. She shuddered involuntarily. Then, she felt the man place his fingers against her vulva, and begin to rub. She tried to buck away, but the man reached forward with his other hand and grabbed her left breast, pulling it in and kneading it.

"MMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman pleaded but her gag cries did nothing to dissuade the man from continuing his actions. His probing fingers over her vulva soon found her engorging vagina lips, and he pressed into the latex of her costume to drive the panties underneath into the mouth of her tunnel. This sent another shudder up her body. Her breath began to shallow as she felt herself becoming horny under the man's expert ministration.

Catwoman was shocked. She was not new to the concept of bondage sex, of course. In her career before becoming a burglar, she had been a prostitute. However, she had usually been the dominatrix, the top, and not the submissive. Nevertheless, there were times in her prostitution career when she was paid to be fucked. Occasionally, at the hands of a skilled customer, she had actually found the experience highly erotic. However, what was shocking now was that she was actually responding to a man's touch after having been violently captured and involuntarily bound.

Catwoman could only shake her head and moan into her gag. As the man continued to molest her, she felt herself becoming more and more aroused. Her body writhed, and she swayed her buttocks behind her. Before long, she felt herself becoming wet underneath as her cunt juiced. Her breath became more and more shallow as she felt her body being pushed towards an orgasm.

Then, just before she achieved release, the man stopped, leaving Catwoman – who was in the throes of erotic stimulation – confused. Looking out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the man walked away for a moment, and returned with a letter opener from his desk. For a moment Catwoman felt a sense of fear as he tested the edge. Then, he stepped behind the bound captive. Squeezing his hand forward between her legs, he grasped the front zipper of her catsuit, then pulled it down her abdomen to her crotch. He pulled the zipper up her crotch before pulling it partly up the small of her back. This exposed the lacy black panties Catwoman wore underneath. Having thus exposed her, he pressed a finger into the crotch of her panties, eliciting an involuntarily moan from his captive.

"My, you are all wet underneath." The man mocked, "Is it that the great Catwoman actually loved to be bound?"

Catwoman, stung by the comment, could only renew the struggle with her bonds to show her continued defiance. The man ignored the futile display and grabbed the waist band of her panties and yanked the garment's back out of the slit in her costume. This wedged the fabric of the panties through her vagina lips and chafed her clitoris hood, rubbing her erotic knob underneath, causing Catwoman to shudder once more and moan into her gag.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman protested but there was nothing she could do as the man tugged out the waist band until he could find the spot that would usually reside over her left hip. He sliced through the band at this point. Then he tugged out the right side of the waist band and repeated the cut at the point the band would go over her right hip. Once the band was severed at these two points, he had no problems pulling the panties out through the slit of her catsuit. As he did so, the fabric rubbed against her sensitive vagina move on its way out, causing her to buck.

"I see that you have waxed your vulva. Not a strand of hair here." The man said as he stepped back.

"MMMMMPH!" Catwoman could only moan again as the man walked round in front of her, holding the panties which had been cut into a rough X-shaped piece of cloth.

"See how nice and wet it is?" the man asked, showing his bound captive her own panties that had just been nestling against her crotch just a moment ago. She could only glance up at him with hate filled eyes.

"I can see that you're still defiant." The man said, "You still seem to think that you are the proud Catwoman, the queen of thieves. I think I will have to take that pride of yours down a peg or two."

The man stepped forward and placed the wet crotch piece of Catwoman's panties against the front of her cowl, where the breathing grommets were. Instantly, she could smell her own musky aroma through them.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman protested, but the man now took the two ends of the severed waist band of her panties, and tied them around the crown of her head. Then he took the lower two ends, and tied them together behind her neck. This left the panties spread out over Catwoman's face, forcing her to smell her own soiled panties. She could only shake her head weakly, a useless attempt to shake off the offending garment.

"How do you like your own smelly panties?" the man asked, laughing.

"MMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman could only let out another gagged curse at the humiliation of being forced to smell her own intimates after she had juiced on it. With a sinking feeling, she realized that the man could do whatever he wanted with her in this state.

The man now returned to the spot behind Catwoman. She felt his fingers touch her again. Now his digits have direct access to her vulva, and he easily located her swollen clitoris under its hood. He began to knead the clitoris, even as he reached forward once more to knead her left breast, causing the feline captive to become aroused again. As she began to pant, she took in whiff after whiff of her own juice through the panties covering her nose, which – unexpectedly for her – seemed to add to the arousal.

When Catwoman became suitably wet, the man stopped kneading her breast and clitoris. He reached for his denim jeans and unbuttoned the front. The sound of the front zip being pulled down reached the ears of his captive, and she realized what was happening. She tried to swing her buttocks away, but the man easily grasped her wide rounded hips after he had pulled down his pants and underwear. His penis was already hardened and pointed straight forward. He leaned forward, aiming the hot knob of his penis at the slit of her vulva.

Catwoman felt the hot flesh penetrate into her cunt. She screamed into her gag, and tried to break free of the man's grasp but he pulled her hips in, even as he rammed his own hips forward. His manhood charged into her wet vagina, rubbing the sensitive insides. Catwoman bucked her head back and let out another gagged scream at the penetration.

"MMMMMMMMPH! MMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned as the man repeated pumped into her. She could not believe it. She was being raped. She thought it was something that only happened to other women, something that could never happen to her, skilled as she was in combatives. She had trained herself in various forms of fighting styles, including unarmed combat and the use of the whip as a formidable weapon. Yet, the man had taken her so easily, bound her, made her a helpless captive, as if she was one of those weak women who could not defend themselves, and now was raping her, rendering her a victim as well.

Catwoman continued to squirm in her bonds, struggling against her own whip holding her captive. The braided leather groaned softly, but held her. She had chosen the bullwhip precisely for its strength, which would allow her to use it to swing from one point to another. Now, that very strength was being exploited to keep her in captivity.

The man continued to pump her. He panted as he moved his hips faster and faster, ramming his cock up and down her love tunnel. Catwoman could only moan as her cunt was pounded. She felt herself responding to the man's fucking, becoming more and more aroused, until, finally, she let out a gagged scream into the whip cleaving her mouth as she cummed. Just at that moment, the man also reached his climax, and ejaculated into her.

The man withdrew his member from Catwoman's cunt as it began to shrink. He was panting, but he was satisfied. She was every bit of a good fuck that he had fantasized about. Everything about her was perfect. Her beautiful body. Her fetishistic costume. Her bondage. Above all, he had captured and raped Catwoman! The very thief that had befuddled the Gotham Police Department and Batman!

Catwoman panted before the man, her body limp in its strappado bondage. The overwhelming sense of humiliation filled her as she breathed heavily through the stained fabric of her panties. The man had so successfully humbled her, binding her with her own whip and debasing her with her own panties before mercilessly raping her. Every fiber of her identity as a cunning burglar, as the Catwoman, had been shredded by the man in less than an hour. Reluctant tears of shame welled up in her eyes, and rolled down her latex covered cheeks. Along the way, it messed up her mascara, leaving streaks of black flowing down the exposed skins around her eyes.

"Was that as good for you as it was for me?" the man asked, pulling up his pants and zipping it. He came around to her front and cupped her chin, lifting her head up. He knew the answer. Catwoman may look in defiance up at him, but the tears in her eyes and the messed up mascara told him all he needed to know.

The man smiled and released Catwoman's chin. He disappeared from view for a while. She heard a drawer being opened behind her, and then the man came back into view. He was holding something in his hands, which she recognized almost immediately. It was a chastity belt of shining stainless steel. The waist portion of the belt was high, almost a waist clincher, designed to be secured on both flanks of the wearer by means of two steel flanges with ratchet teeth fitted to the ends of the front half of the belt. These mated up to oblong locks welded to the ends of the rear half of the belt. The crotch piece of the belt consisted of a flexible metal strip that ran down the front, to be pulled up to the rear and locked in place with the same type of lock as those on the flanks, except that this one was oriented vertically. At the moment, the crotch strap was unsecured to the rear, allowing her to glance down at its inner surface, which was fitted with a dildo. Her eyes widened when she saw the girth of the black rubber, which was beefier than any human version could ever be. She looked up in horror at the smiling man before her.

"Yes," the man said, "You'll be fully stuffed."

Catwoman writhed as the man unbuckled one side of the belt and placed it around her waist. In spite of this, the man effortlessly buckled the belt in place, clinching it tightly in to compress Catwoman's already narrow waist. Then he reached down and gathered up the end of crotch piece. He pulled it up and aimed the tip of the rubber giant penis straight at Catwoman's open cunt. She was still fully juiced from her rape, and there was no friction as the monster penetrated her and rode its way up her tunnel.

Catwoman shuddered as she felt the wall of her vagina stretch and the monster push deeper and deeper into her until its tip seemed to impale her. She could only shake in anger and frustration at this intrusion. When the dildo was fully inside of her, the man took the rest of the strap and buckled it tightly in place on the back of the belt, leaving the rubber phallus buried deep within Catwoman.

"Mmmmmmmph…" Catwoman could only moan weakly at the discomfort of having the monster within her.

The man walked away for a moment, and when he returned, he was holding several small padlocks. Methodically, he began fitting the locks to every single buckle on the chastity belt, imprisoning her loins in the steely embrace of the contraption.

When the man was done, he walked around to Catwoman's front again and spoke to her.

"I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I'm going to turn in. Meanwhile, to keep you entertained …"

The man held up a small remote control, like that for a car, and pressed a button. Catwoman's eyes widened when she felt the dildo inside of her began to squirm. Its movement slowly became more and more intense, sending pulses of sensation up her spine. Catwoman threw back her head at the sensation and moaned into her improvised gag. She shook her head as the monster's movements turned into intense vibration, shaking her to the core.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned. The man gave her one last evil smile, then turned and left the thief alone in her bondage.

The rubber monster had sent Catwoman into orgasm after orgasm through the night. Within her own latex catsuit and cowl, she was perspiring buckets, some of wetness flowing out of the slit in her catsuit to mix with her juice escaping out of either side of the crotch strap of her chastity belt, to form streaks of fluid running down the rubber cladding her inner thighs. Then, whether it was from the shock of her rape, or the inadequacy of oxygen entering her lungs through the panties covering her face, or the sheer exhaustion, or her strenuous bondage position, or dehydration from her perspiration and juicing, she blacked out.

When she finally regained consciousness, Catwoman found herself still hanging strappado from the lamp she had been tied to. The tightness around her jaws and her arms told her that she was still bound by her own whip. Glancing down, she could see that her thighs were still bound as well. The shiny steel of the chastity belt still cladding her loins reminded her of her ordeal.

Catwoman twisted her body and glanced around the study. She seemed to be alone. She also noticed that the darkness of the night was beginning to lift, and she realized that dawn was breaking. She began to squirm and struggle desperately with the leather braids binding her.

Catwoman had had some training in escaping from bonds. Granted, it was more difficult to escape from being bound by her elbows than by being bound by her wrists, but it was possible. It had to be possible. Little by little, Catwoman twisted her elbows and manipulated her arms, until she was rewarded with her left elbow slipping above the braids of the leather whip. This allowed her to wriggle and shrug her left arm out of the coil of the whip. Once it was free, she could reach around and untie the crude reef knot used to secure the whip in place around her elbows. Then, she ripped the soiled panties from her face and threw it on the floor, before reaching up with both hands, to untie the knot binding the whip around her jaws, ungagging herself. Finally, she dropped to her knees and untied the belt binding them together.

Catwoman gave herself a few moments to recover. Then, she stood up gingerly. The monster dildo was still within her, but there was little time for her to find the keys to the little padlock holding the chastity belt in place, or pick them. She took a few tentative steps forward and found that she could walk, albeit unsteadily. Then she stumbled towards the window she had entered from and crawled through it.

The thought of revenge entered Catwoman's mind for a moment, but even though her mind was clouded by exhaustion and dehydration, she realized the risks involved. She did not know where the man was, whether he would be armed, or even whether he had called the police. The best option now was to escape and reassess her options.

Catwoman stumbled through the garden on her weakened legs. When she finally got to the gate, she took a while to climb over it, her usual dexterity hampered by the abuse she had taken in her bondage and rape, as well as by the rubber monster still residing within her cunt. Finally she reached her Ducanti motorbike, still parked where she had left it.

Catwoman ripped off her cowl as she popped open the storage compartment to retrieve the helmet and jacket. Her hair was all wet and matted against her skull. Her make-up was all messed-up, with mascara running down her eye sockets.

Putting her jacket and helmet on, just as the sky continue to brighten, Catwoman swung up her legs and planted her buttocks onto the saddle once more. She sucked in a sharp breath when she felt the dildo within her move deeper into her vagina, but there was nothing she could do about that.

It was a very interesting ride back to Catwoman's apartment building indeed, as she was terrified that she would be pulled over by the cops. It would be difficult to explain the chastity belt that she was wearing. And, with every bump or unevenness on the road, the motorcycle would buck, pummeling the dildo up into her cunt.

Thankfully, Catwoman finally got back into the privacy of her garage. It was a great relief when she finally entered her apartment. She bent down and quickly got rid of the boots she had been wearing, then unzipped her catsuit and peeled it off her wet body. Beads of perspiration covered her torso and limbs. She felt the relief of the cool air against her body as she walked into the kitchen, still wearing the chastity belt and the lower part of her catsuit. She took a bottle of water and drained it, before turning to examine the locks on the belt still imprisoning her loins.

Catwoman cursed. These were not simple locks that she could defeat easily with lock-picks. These used disk tumbler locks that were impossible to pick. Being constructed with no shanks visible, it was also impossible for her to cut with any tools she had available at the moment. The same went for the steel of the belt's body.

Catwoman had no choice but to leave the belt alone for the moment. Instead she cut her catsuit in half, to allow herself to undress fully. She tore the rubber of the catsuit off her limbs, then staggered to her shower.

Catwoman felt more human after a hot shower and had a warm glass of milk. Then, she dressed quickly for the trip to the storage facility just outside of town. She put on a light yellow bra and a tight white T-shirt before pulling on a pair of denims. There was no need for panties, with the chastity belt still locked around her.

Catwoman took the Jaguar and drove across town. She quickly retrieved the tools she needed and drove back again. She could not wait to get rid of the dildo inside of her as the elevator took her up from the garage to her apartment. The doors slid open and she stepped in the hall-way, stripping off her sneakers before walking into her living room.

Then, Catwoman stopped in her tracks. There, lounging on her expensive designer armchair was the man. He had changed into an expensive gray pin-stripe suit and white shirt, and was looking at her, grinning.

"YOU!" Catwoman screamed, overcoming her surprise. She dropped the bag containing the tools she had retrieved. She launched herself at the man, determined to tear him to pieces for raping her.

There was a beep sound. Before Catwoman could take another step, the dildo inside of her sprung to life with an intensity beyond anything it had generated the night before. The woman gasped in shock and her knees went weak as the powerful pulses shot through her. She fell onto all fours on the carpet as the man got up off her armchair.

The man stepped forward and slapped Catwoman with the back of his right hand. She fell to her side. There she stayed as she reached down with her hands, crawling at the chastity belt in a futile attempt to pull out the dildo.

"Let's crank it up a notch, shall we?" the man asked. He was standing over her now. He pressed the remote control in his hand again, and the dildo shook even more vigorously within Catwoman. She felt as if she was being torn asunder inside, and the intensity of the stimulation rocked her to the core.

Finally, almost unconsciously, Catwoman panted, "Please… please make it stop…"

"Will you be a good girl?" the man asked. Catwoman could only nod desperately as she squirmed on the floor.

The man smiled triumphantly and pressed the remote again. Instantly, the dildo stopped, leaving Catwoman weak and panting on the floor. She lay there for a few moments, catching her breath. Then, with the dexterity of a cat, she rolled onto a squatting position and launched herself at the man, like a cat hurling itself at a rat.

Just before Catwoman's outreached hands could grasp the man's throat, the dildo within her exploded to life again. She let out a scream and landed heavily onto the floor, as her senses were disrupted by the powerful assault administered by the dildo. She squirmed and arched her back as she tried once again to reach the dildo, parting her legs obscenely wide and reaching down with both her arms.

"I thought you'll try that." The man said, "No more tricks now, huh?"

Catwoman put up a longer defiance this time, but it was a losing battle as she was shaken to the core. She felt as if her lower regions would be shredded by the monster's vibration. Finally, she had to give in, and pleaded once more for the dildo to be switched off.

"Good." The man said, pressing his remote control again, "I hope you understand now that you must obey my every command or you will be punished, understand?"

Catwoman nodded dumbly as she laid on her side. She could not believe that she had once again been rendered so helpless, in her own home at that. She had been caught off guard twice.

"How did you find me?" Catwoman asked weakly. She screamed again as the man switched on the dildo again, shocking her to the core once more.

"PLEEEASSSEEEEEEE STOP!" Catwoman screamed, crutching her crotch.

"You will speak only when given permission. Understand?" The man said. Catwoman nodded once more. The man switched off the dildo as he retrieved an item from a large canvas bag next to the armchair. He threw it onto the floor in front of Catwoman even as he stood a distance from her supine form.

"You will have to be broken properly, of course, but until then, this will keep you quiet." The man said. Looking at the item, Catwoman saw that it was a ball-gag. Its red rubber ball was almost three inches in girth, penetrated by an inch-wide leather strap fitted with tongue and buckle. She realized that she would have to stretch her jaws wide to accommodate it.

"Put it on!" the man ordered.

Catwoman picked up the ball gag, and she gathered up the ends with both hands. She parted her own jaws and pushed the rubber ball into her mouth. It tasted foul as it pressed down on her tongue and stretched her jaws. She then pulled the thick leather straps of the gag around her head to mate them up behind her neck.

"Tighter!" the man ordered. Catwoman undid the buckle and clinched the straps in by another notch, forcing the ball deeper into her mouth and curling back the corners of her mouth further. The man appeared satisfied at this, even though it left her with a dull ache in her jaws.

"Get up onto your feet now." The man ordered. Catwoman slowly crawled onto all fours before slowly rising onto her feet. She stared balefully at the man, full of hatred. She was already beginning to drool from the corners of her wide open jaws.

"Take off the jeans and T-shirt, then the bra." The man ordered. Catwoman did as she was told, pulling up the hem of the T-shirt first before throwing it aside. Then she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled it down her long legs before stripping the leggings off each of her leg. She now stood in only her bra and the chastity belt, her lips forming an O around what was visible of the wet red ball nestled in her mouth. She now reached back and unhook her bra, before shrugging off the shoulder straps to allow the garment to drop to the floor, exposing her firm breasts. She crossed her arms over them in an act of futile modesty, but that only served to push them together to form a deep and enticing cleavage.

"I really would prefer you in a costume. Where do you keep them?" the man asked curiously. Catwoman could not reply of course, but she turned her head and looked at the door leading into her walk-in wardrobe.

"Show me." The man said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

The man followed Catwoman as she walked into the room, her arms still crossed over her breasts. Her buttocks oscillated behind her as she moved, bringing a lusty smile to the man's face. Once inside the wardrobe, she walked up to the secret compartment and opened it.

"Take them all out." The man ordered. Catwoman did as she was told, throwing the costumes onto the floor.

"Mmmmm. Quite a collection. I see that you've cut the latex one from last night. Such a pity. However, I've always imagined you in this one." The man said, pointing at the purple lycra costume that she used to wear.

Catwoman stared back at him. For a moment, she hesitated. When the man produced the remote control again, and poised his finger threateningly over it, she quickly picked up the garment and unzipped its back. Then she stepped into the leggings of the costume, and pulled its rump up to her buttocks, covering the silver chastity belt around her waist and crotch. She pulled up the front of the costume over her chest, before inserting her arms into its sleeves. Then, she pulled up the long zip running up the back. The purple costume, unlike the latex one, had open ended sleeves and leggings, so her hands and feet were left expose. However, like its latex counterpart, it stretched tightly over every curve of her body, particularly her breasts, the nipples of which poked against the elastic material.

The costume did not have a separate cowl. Instead, it was attached to the front of the neck of the costume. Catwoman pulled open its hem, and stretched it over her head, pulling it back and down until the hem met the top of the back of the costume, covering the rear portions of the leather straps of her ball-gag. The front of the cowl had three openings. Two large eyeholes left her eyes and eyebrows uncovered, while a third one left the lower part of her face uncovered, revealing her gagged mouth.

"Good. It really looks good on you." The man complemented, "Now, put on some make-up."

Catwoman wanted to tear out the man's eyes, but his thumb was rested threateningly on the remote control. She turned and went over to her vanity top, and sat down. Once again, she lined her eyes heavily with black-eyeliner and dark mascara, but used a dark purple eye-shadow instead. She also used a glossy dark purple lipstick.

"Excellent." The man said, "I see you need less time to get ready than most women I know. Now for the boots."

Catwoman gave him a hateful look before turning to pick up a pair of boots.

"No. Put these on." The man said, dropping his bag on the floor. Watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye to give her no opportunity to attack him, he picked up a pair of black PVC boots from inside the bag. At first glance, they resembled the ones she had worn the night before, except that the tops stretched much higher. On closer examination, she realized that the heels were much higher than the ones she had worn. The stiletto heels were at least six inches in height. She sat down on her rump on the floor and unzipped the boots, and fed her feet into them, before pulling up the zips on the inner sides of her legs. She found that the elastic top came almost to her crotch, and fitted snuggly against the curves of her long legs.

"Stand up." The man ordered.

Catwoman obeyed and carefully got onto her feet. As she expected, her feet were forced into an uncomfortably steep angle. She was literally standing on tip-toes, putting a lot of stress on her calf muscles. It also made it difficult for her, unaccustomed as she was to heels of this height, to stand steadily. On the other hand, the tip-toe position imposed on her body tipped her torso forward, thrusting her breasts out, while at the same time pushing her rounded buttocks out behind her, putting her body into an enticing form.

"Now the gloves." The man said, retrieving a pair of black PVC opera gloves from within the bag and threw them on the floor, forcing Catwoman to lower herself into a squat with her legs wide open to retrieve them. She found that these gloves did not have fingers, but ended with sealed ends. She put on the left one first, which was relatively straightforward, but the right one was difficult, as the fingers of her left hand could only grasp the opening with difficulty. They could extend and curl back fully, but they were held against one another by the material. The thumb was rendered useless as it was imprisoned against the side of the hand. After some effort, she finally succeeded in sliding her right arm in, and pulling the glove up to her elbows.

"Now turn your back towards me and get on your knees."

Catwoman moved from her squatting position onto her knees. She heard the man take something from the bag, and walked up to her.

"Hands behind your back." The man ordered. When Catwoman obeyed, he fitted a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, securing them behind her back. Then she felt him fit something around her neck and buckled behind her neck. Glancing at the mirror next to her, she saw that it was a beefy black leather collar with steel spikes along its length. A D-ring was fitted to the front. The man now took a leash and fitted its snap-hook to the ring.

"Get up!"

Catwoman struggled once more onto her feet, balancing precariously on her impractical footwear. The man gave the leash a tug, forcing her to follow him. He led her out of the wardrobe into the living room, towards the elevator. She towered over him in her boots, but this physical superiority did not translate into any possibility of escape, not when she could barely balance, not when her hands were useless in the gloves, and not when her wrists were cuffed together behind her back. Indeed, the boots forced her to arch her body forward, thrusting her lycra covered breasts out enticingly, and they swayed with every step she took, even as her ass was pushed back out behind her to sway like the stern of a ship in a storm.

The man took Catwoman down to her private garage in the elevator. There, she saw an extra car, a Jaguar coupe. The man saw her surprised look and informed her, "It wasn't difficult to obtain the codes to your garage door, once I tracked you down using the cellular transmitter fitted to your dildo. I'm sure I used the same means you did to penetrate my security."

Catwoman's eyes opened wide, but she could say nothing with the ball gag still in her mouth. The man opened the passenger side door of the coupe.

"Get in." the man ordered. Catwoman had to turn around and fold herself into the narrow space, not an easy task with her wrists still cuffed together. When she rested her rump on the seat, she was once again reminded of the presence of the dildo when it was pushed up her tract. The she folded her long legs and hauled them in, twisting her body to face the front. The man reached in and pulled the seat belt over her body, pinning her body into the cushioned seat, her arms trapped uselessly behind her. Then the man closed the passenger side door before getting into the driver's seat.

The man drove the car out of the garage onto the busy Gotham streets. Catwoman looked desperately out at the crowd outside the car, but she knew that no one could look in through the heavily tinted windows. Help was literally within arm's reach, but she was completely helpless to try to draw their attention. She could only sit silently next to the man as he drove her to an unknown fate.

The drive out of Gotham City lasted for a couple of hours as the car was initially constrained by the heavy traffic on the streets of the city. The man kept himself occupied by molesting his captive, sliding his free hand up and down her long thighs or kneading her breasts. To add to her torment, he switched on her dildo, using a lower setting which, although it was not deliberating like in her apartment, only added to her torment as she became sexually aroused.

Catwoman felt the crotch of her costume becoming wet as she juiced from the stimulation of the dildo. Even worse, the man would wait until she was almost cumming before shutting the dildo down, just as she was on the cusp of orgasm. It was intensely frustrating, made all the more so by her captor repeating it several times during the drive.

Once out of the city, the man made speedy but careful progress, so as not to attract the attention of the police. He drove over the country roads until, at last, he turned up into a seemingly deserted dirt track. After a short distance, at a point where the main road could no longer be seen, he came to a stop next to a pick-up truck. He got out and came around to the passenger side. He opened the door and released the seat belt pinning Catwoman down, then took her leash and pulled viciously.

Catwoman fell out of the car onto her side.

"MMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned in pain.

"Get on your feet!" he ordered, tugging on the leash in his hands to constrict the collar around her throat, choking her, as an incentive to obedience. Catwoman obeyed as slowly as she dared, but she understood the futility of resistance. She reluctantly got onto on her feet, putting immense pressure on them in their torturous footwear. She stood upright with her feet together as the man walked around her once.

"My, my, you're so wet down there." The man said, looking down at her crotch. Catwoman felt the flash of shame on her cheeks. She could not help but look down, only to confirm that the sides of her crotch was all wet, the purple lycra fabric being stained a darker shade than the rest of her costume. She turned her head so that the man would not see her embarrassment.

"Move!" the man ordered, leading her towards the pick-up. He brought her around to the front of the truck, then pushed her against the bumper, before bending her over until her front was against the hood of the engine. She felt the cold of the metal penetrate through the thin fabric of her catsuit and shuddered involuntarily.

Catwoman found that, with her body stretched over the hood, her face came almost up against the windscreen. Just beneath her throat, where the D-ring of the collar dangled, a heavy steel snap-hook had been bolted onto the edge of the hood. This was no coincidence as the man now reached came round to the side and took the hook, and snapped it into the D-ring. She could no longer raise herself up even if she wanted to.

The man now went around behind the bent-over Catwoman. He liked the way she looked with her body stretched over the hood, her buttocks raised into the air and her large breasts squashed against the metal. He took her right leg, and pulled it to one side of the front bumper, spreading her long legs. Here, a steel manacle – of the same design as a police handcuff, except of greater circumference - dangled from a short length of heavy chain, the other end of which had been bolted to the body of the pick-up, just before the front wheel well. He took the manacle, clicked open its swinging arm and placed the steel band around the ankle of Catwoman, before swinging the arm in place. The sound of the ratchet lock clicking into place rang through the quiet forest they were in the middle of. The man walked over and picked up Catwoman's left ankle, and stretched it to the other side, where another manacle had been similarly set-up and secured her left ankle. Catwoman was now left sprawled over the engine compartment of the pick-up truck, her legs spread obscenely open to either side of the front, her crotch pointed directly forward, the two dark purple stains on either side of her crotch plainly visible.

Much to Catwoman's mortification, the man now took out a Digital SLR camera, and proceeded to take photos and videos of her in her current predicament. She squirmed in her bondage, trying to put up a show of resistance, but bound as she was, she ended up only shaking her booty, making her look even more helpless.

"My, you look lovely." The man said as he came over to her, and turned the camera around so that Catwoman could look at the LCD display on its back. He ran through the photos of her, bound to the hood.

"MMMMMMMMPH! MMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman cursed.

The man ignored the bound captive and reached into the pick-up truck again. He took out a camera tripod and walked to a spot in front of the truck. Catwoman twisted her neck around to see what he was doing. He set up the tripod and screwed the camera into place. Then he focused the camera, before switching on the video mode and pressing the shutter button to begin recording. Then he came back to the truck.

The man took out a folding knife and opened it. For a moment, Catwoman felt fear pierce her heart. What was he going to do? She wondered, and squirmed against her bonds again. However, the manacles around her ankles held her firmly in place, with her legs spread wide open, her crotch completely vulnerable. With her wrists handcuffed behind her, and her fingers rendered useless in the fingerless gloves, she could do very little as she felt the man put a hand on her steel covered vulva.

Then, Catwoman felt the man pinched the purple lycra fabric above the small of her back and she heard the sound of fabric being cut. She felt the cool air against the skin of her back. The man had penetrated the fabric with the tip of his knife over her back, just above the point where her buttocks began. He began slicing through the fabric, making a clockwise movement, cutting towards her side, then down. The fabric peeled back to reveal her right buttock as he reached the start of her right thigh. The man turn turned his blade and cut across the top of her right thigh. The fabric peeled back further to reveal the steel of her chastity belt.

The man continued cutting, now over her left thigh. When he reached Catwoman's left flank. He now begin cutting up, along Catwoman's left buttock until he reached a point parallel to where he had made his first incision, then turned again and cut across to where he first started.

The man took the roughly rectangular piece of purple lycra he had cut out and put it aside. Catwoman's rear was now covered only by her steel chastity belt. Her buttocks were completely uncovered, looking enticingly vulnerable. The man could not resist but gave a sharp slap on one of them.

"MMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned, and pulled at her bindings. Her buttocks wriggled as she did so, which only made them more arousing to look at.

The man now took a key from his pocket. He hooked a finger through the edge of the cut in Catwoman's costume, over her left hip, and pulled it down to reveal the locks on her chastity belt. He unlocked these locks. Then he walked over to her right and repeated the process, unlocking the chastity belt fully. Then he went around behind her. He unfolded the rear of the belt off Catwoman's back through the hole in her costume, before pulling it backwards. As the belt slid out from under her body, the dildo came out. The rubber slid out easily, still lubricated by the captive's own juice. When the front of the belt came up against her thighs, the man had to twist the belt this way and that in order to pull it out completely from under her. With the tip of the dildo still embedded within her cunt, this caused Catwoman further torment before the rubber monster finally popped softly out of her vagina, trailing strands of slimy cum. Her vulva was now completely exposed, with its vagina lips and the puckered asshole darkly prominent with her legs spread wide open.

"Your cunt is so slimy. I would have to clean it up." The man said. He took the rectangular fabric that he had cut from the rump of Catwoman's costume and used the central portion to wipe the juice off her vulva. He also pressed the fabric into Catwoman's cunt, causing her to throw her head back at the sensation caused by the intrusion, especially as he wiped the inside of her tunnel. When he came round to where Catwoman could see him, he spread open the cloth to reveal a large dark purple patch in its centre, the stain from all the juice she had produced in the car and from the man 'cleaning' her.

The man went back to the cabin of the pick-up, and took something out of the glove compartment. Looking at him, Catwoman saw that it was a rubber-ball, about the same diameter as the ball gag residing in her mouth. She watched him place the ball in the centre of the fabric, where the dark purple patch was. Then he rolled up the rectangular fabric. He held the ends of the roll, and spun the centre, twisting the two ends up towards the ball. Then, he knotted the fabric on either side of the ball.

The man now reached forward to Catwoman's head. He pushed up the hem of her cowl, and unbuckled the ball gag, before pulling the large rubber ball out of her jaws. He dropped the ball-gag onto the hood, but before Catwoman could relax her aching jaws, he pulled back on her forehead again to force her to part her jaws, and – to her horror – pushed the fabric-covered rubber ball into her mouth. This was, of course, the part which was most saturated with her own juice, and she tasted the tangy bitterness of her own cum as the rubber ball settled between her jaws. The man now took either end of the fabric, and pulled them back around her jaws, and knotted them tightly together behind the back of her neck.

"MMMMMMMMMMM!" Catwoman moaned at this new twist in her ordeal.

To be forced to taste her own juice, produced against her will by her bondage and stimulation was a new dimension in her humiliation.

"How do you like the taste of your own cum?" the man asked.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

The man laughed haughtily. He came around to behind Catwoman, and undid the front of his pants. He pulled down his briefs to reveal his hardening penis. Spread as she was on the hood of the truck, she was completely defenceless. Without pausing, he rammed his manhood deep into Catwoman. His captive bucked and writhed, as she was once more reduced to a rape victim.

The man pumped away at Catwoman, shaking the pick-up truck. His captive moaned into her gag, sucking on the stains of her own juice in her improvised gag. She writhed and wriggled, pulling at her steel bonds as the man pounded her inside with his penis. Then, at last, the man spurted his seeds deep into her cunt.

The man sighed with satisfaction and withdrew his shrinking penis. He pulled up his briefs and pants, and went around to the cargo bed of the truck. He came back with a long steel shank. One end had an eyehole near its tip, while the other end had a steel screw nut welded to the other end. A steel phallus, one end of which was threaded, was screwed into the nut perpendicularly.

The man went to the front of the truck, between Catwoman's wide-spread legs. Here, a steel bracket had been fitted, consisting of a U-shape piece with its two shanks projecting forward, with a screw bolt piercing the centre of the shanks. He unscrewed the bolt, to permit the end of the shank he was holding to slid in between the shanks of the U-shaped piece of metal, then screwed the bolt back into position, piercing through the eyehole of the shank he was holding. The tip of the phallus now hovered just beyond his captive's wet vagina lips. The man now began to twist the shank of the phallus. Its tip rotated and moved forward as the shank rode forward on the screw threads inside. Finally, the cold steel parted her vagina lips and entered the hot interior, causing Catwoman to squirm from the cold of its metallic surface. As the steel phallus penetrated into her, it also rotated, rimming the inside of her cunt, causing her even more distress. The man only stopped after about two inches had penetrated into her.

"Comfortable?" the man asked.

"MMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman cursed in response.

The man now retrieved his camera and placed it into the cabin. Then he climbed into the truck now. Catwoman heard and felt the engine start under her. Then, the man engaged the gear, and stepped on the gas, and began to drive up the dirt track.

Much to Catwoman's horror, as the truck bumped up and down the track, the phallus bumped inside of her. The shank it was mounted on would rotate on its other end, fitted to the steel bracket on the fender. The top end of the shank could swing back and forth, which in turn translated into the phallus sliding up and down her vagina. Her eyes widened and she saw the man smiled evilly behind the wheel through the windscreen. She also noticed for the first time that a small camera had been set up in the rear of the cabin to film out over the hood. It was capturing every moment of her abuse. It had probably been filming her since she was first mounted on the hood. Finally, to add to the insult, as the truck picked up speed, the cold fingers of airflow over the front of the truck brushed against her exposed crotch and buttocks, adding to her discomfort.

The drive seemed to stretch into hours, although Catwoman could not be sure how long it actually was. The sun passed its noon-time high, casting its feeble autumn rays on the bound hood ornament that was Catwoman.

The man was really enjoying himself. He felt himself becoming horny again as he looked out over the spread Catwoman. With her front pinned against the hood, her breasts were squashed down and together, forming a pleasing cleavage in front of him. Her squirming and moaning only added to his pleasure.

Catwoman cummed again and again during the drive as the phallus in her cunt continued to tirelessly pump her. This made her crotch wet and increased the cold of the air flowing over the exposed flesh. The cloth around the rubber ball in her mouth was becoming wetter and wetter as her drool mixed with the stain in the fabric to form a foul tasting cocktail. It was not before long that the ordeal began to push her towards exhaustion.

The journey only came to a stop in the late afternoon as the pickup truck emerged out of the forest into a clearing. Then the truck bumped onto a long concrete tarmac, and Catwoman vaguely noted that they seemed to have arrived at a disused airfield. This conclusion was given credence when the man drove up to a large building constructed from zinc awning sheets. The man drove up to its large sliding double doors and stopped.

The man got out and came around to the front. Catwoman could only looked up at him with her eyes half-closed, too tired to even move as he went around to the front and dismounted the steel shank, pulling the steel sting from inside her cunt, its tip slick with her cum.

The man left Catwoman for a moment as he dumped the steel shank. Then he came around to her and released, first, her left leg, then her right leg, allowing her to place her feet on the ground. Her thighs felt raw and tired after having been spread for so long, and she was actually grateful that she could bring them together now.

The man now reached forward and unhooked Catwoman's collar from the hood. For a moment, she laid on the hood, gathering up her strength. Then the man took the leash, still attached to her collar, and pulled on it, yanking her to one side and off the hood. Her bent body fell onto the concrete tarmac, and she moaned.

"On your feet, slave!" the man roared. The last word penetrated through the cloud of exhaustion in Catwoman's head. Something stirred inside of her. It was the first time she had heard the word after all the abuse she had endured. 'Slave'. She was not a slave! She'll never be a slave!

The man pulled on her leash again, trying to force her to stand up. Catwoman did so, first raising one knee, then another until she was in a squatting position, before boosting herself upright.

Then, before the man could react, Catwoman drove a knee straight into his crotch. Surprised, the man let go of the leash, bending over to hold his crotch. His eyes bulged open in shock. Catwoman then drove her other knee into his jaw, knocking him back onto his back. She tried to stomp on one of his ankles but the fetish boots she had been forced to wear made it difficult for her to hit her target, and he was beginning to come around. Instead, she kicked him in the side of his head, knocking him down again.

Catwoman turned and ran. The ridiculously high heels she was wearing restricted her movement such that she could only totter on the concrete. Her naked buttocks swayed behind her as she staggered forward towards the tree, desperately trying to get as much distance between herself and her captor as possible. Her breasts bounded against the elastic lycra in front of her chest as her heels pounded a staccato rhythm on the tarmac.

Catwoman did not get very far before she heard the sound of running footsteps behind her. She turned around and saw the man running towards her. She grunted into her gag and turned, trying to pick up her pace, but there was no way she could out run him in her ridiculous high heels. She turned around and planted her feet apart, ready to fight him.

The man came to a stop just out of range of Catwoman's kick. He smiled as he looked at the woman in her combat stance. It looked a bit ridiculous to him, seeing how her mouth was still firmly gagged and her hands were bound behind her. With her feet tilted forward at a ridiculous angle, she looked unbalanced. Her bare crotch, the start of which was visible from the front between her legs did not help.

"I shouldn't have underestimated you, slave." The man said mockingly. He took a step forward and easily side-stepped the woman's kick, now that he was not surprised. Given that she was already partly off balanced with her footwear, she stumbled forward. The man kicked on in her naked ass, and she fell heavily forward. In a flash, he was on top of her easily subduing the desperately kicking Catwoman, and once again used his belt to hobble her knees together.

"On your feet, slut!" the man ordered, picking the end of the leash again and yanking mercilessly on it, pulling up the collar, choking the captive. She tried to pull back, but the man had her at a disadvantage, and she was slowly but surely forced to stand back up onto her feet. The man took the end of the leash and passed it between her legs from the front, then pulled the leash out from the back, below her buttocks. Then he pulled on the leash, tightening it over her naked crotch, such that it pressed against her clitoris hood and parted her vagina lips.

"Move!" the man commanded, pulling mercilessly on the leash. This forced Catwoman to bend forward as the leash chafed against her crotch and pulled down on the collar around her throat. She was forced to stumble backwards as the man led her around towards the hangar. She not only had to walk backwards, bent over to relieve the pressure on her throat and vulva, but the belt binding her ankles ensure that she could only made short shuffling steps.

"MMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned as she stumbled backwards behind the man, her breasts swaying under the light lycra before her, her naked buttocks swinging wildly from side to side as she tried to balance herself tottering backwards. It was both uncomfortable and humiliating.

The man led Catwoman through a door at the side of the hangar and into the large interior. Glancing around, she found that the hangar did not hold a plane, but had been converted into a warehouse. There were large metal racks, upon which boxes and crates had been stacked, most of which looked as if they had not been touched for years.

The man continued to lead Catwoman backwards until he came to the centre of an empty space. Here, a large hook had been suspended via a thick chain from a motorized hoist. The hoist itself was fitted high over-head, along a set of steel tracks that criss-crossed the ceiling. It was one of the few things that looked new and well maintained in the hangar.

The man pulled Catwoman up to the hook and pulled up the loop at the end of the leash and hooked it over the hook. This forced Catwoman to lift her heels as much as possible as the leather bit into her vulva. Once the loop was fitted over the hook, some of the pressure was taken off, allowing her to plant the high heels of her boots back on the concrete floor, but the length of the leash was such that she had to bend slightly over to relieve the pressure exerted on her crotch.

The man moved away from Catwoman's field of view for a moment, and returned with several coils of hemp rope, dropping them on the floor. He took one coil and unfurled it. Then he doubled the rope. He went around Catwoman before coiling the rope around her upper arms and torso, just above her breast, feeding the twin running ends through the loop of the rope, which he had placed over her back, between her shoulder blades. He pulled the lines tight around her, trapping her upper arms against her sides.

The man turned the running ends of the lines backed on the direction from which they had come, and coiled the lines around Catwoman's chest and torso again, this time running the lines under her breasts. As the running ends come around her left upper arm, he fed them through the crotch formed when he first doubled the lines back, and pulled the lines taut. As he did so, the bottom lines crossing her chest under her breast constricted and was lifted up, pushing against the elastic lycra cladding her breasts to slip under the curve of her mounds.

The man took the remaining free lines, and tucked the running ends under Catwoman's right arm-pit, pulling the lines out in front and over the upper lines crossing her body. He pulled the lines down and tucked them under the lower lines running under her breasts, back under her right arm. He then pulled the lines out around her back. As the vertical lines tightened, they pulled the two horizontal sets of lines together, constricting them around her breasts, particularly her right one.

"Mmmmm…" Catwoman moaned softly as she felt the bite of the rough rope on her right breast through the thin lycra of her costume.

The man pulled the lines across her back and repeated the process, this time on the lines crossing over her left arm. Once again, as he pulled the running ends out over her back and tighten the vertical lines, they constricted further, this time putting the squeeze on her left breast as well. The lower lines were driven deeper up the bottom of her breast such that the mounds spilled over and covered parts of the lines. Once this was done, the man tied the running ends to the nexus of lines over her back to secure the lines in place around her body.

The man now took a second coil of rope and doubled it as well. He fed the loop under the horizontal lines running above and below Catwoman's breasts, threading it through the cleavage between the latter. When the loop emerged over the upper lines, he fed the running ends through them, and pulled them down, forming a cow hitch that brought the two sets of horizontal lines together. Of course, this constricted the lines around her breasts even more, until they were like two purple balls suspended high on her chest, her hard nipples poking out in their centres. He then parted the running ends, and threw one line over each of her shoulders.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned as the lines squeezed the roots of her breasts, causing her much discomfort.

The man ignored Catwoman and walked around behind her. He unlocked her handcuffs and allowed her lower arms to fall to her sides, perfectly confident that there was nothing she could do with her upper arms pinned to her sides. He grabbed her right wrist and folded it diagonally up her back, towards her left shoulder. He took the line coming over that shoulder and then lashed it around his captive's right wrist, binding it against her left shoulder blade. He then took her left wrist, and folded it up towards her right shoulder, and bound it in place using the other line.

"MMMMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned again as even more tension was placed on her breasts.

"Shut up, slave!" The man admonished. He slapped Catwoman's right breast to emphasized his point. His captive threw back her head at the blow, and screamed into her gag, "MMMMMMMMMMMPH!"

The man reached up and took the loop of the leash out of the hook. Then he turned Catwoman around such that her chest was facing the hook. He grabbed the control of the hoist, dangling about a foot beyond the hook, and pressed a button, lowering the hook slightly. Then, he pulled up on the nexus of lines in Catwoman's cleavage, once again forcing her up on her toes, before slipping the lines over the hook, leaving her suspended from those lines, with even the six-inch heels of her boots barely touching the floor.

'MMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman protested again, but as usual, she was ignored. The man unhooked the leash from the front of her collar now, and pulled the leash down from under the lines criss-crossing her torso, before pulling it out from under her crotch. The steel hook slapped her crotch on the way out, causing her to twitch. She temporarily lost her balance and was suspended by her breasts for a moment. She could only throw her head back again and scream into her gag.

The man knelt down and unbuckled the belt hobbling Catwoman. In her current position, she could make no move to kick him, no matter how much she wanted to. She could only watch as he took a third rope and doubled it. He hitched the loop end around Catwoman's right thigh, just above the knee. Then he pulled the running ends up and fed them under the horizontal lines running over her upper body, at the point where they begin to go up and under her right breast just after emerging from under her right armpit. He took the running ends and pulled it down. As he reeled the lines in, Catwoman's right leg was hoisted up by her knee. The man kept pulling on the lines until her knee was almost pointing straight up. Then he tied it off. When he let go, the weight of her leg added even more to the tension on her breasts.

"MMMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned.

The man stood back to admire his handiwork for the moment. With her right leg raised high up, Catwoman's crotch was exposed, while her body was twisted to the right, leaving her long left leg as the sole support for the rest of her body. Her bare rump was tilted up to the right in this position, the rounded buttocks gleaming enticingly from the captive's own perspiration.

The man now came around to her front and took out his folding knife again. Catwoman watched helplessly as he pinched the fabric of the costume just under her right breast and punctured it. He then cut the fabric around the fleshy mound, exposing it bit by bit. As he cut up and over her breast, tracing the lines binding it, the fabric peeled away to reveal the pale flesh underneath, until the pink nipple was revealed. He stopped only when he had cut a circular hole in the front of her costume, leaving her right breast completely naked. The man went around to her left, and did the same with her left breast.

The man went away for a while, leaving Catwoman to twist in her new bondage position. Her breasts felt as if they were on fire as the lines gripped their roots tightly, squeezing them into tight balls. Her exposed breasts, crotch and buttocks, on the other hand, were open to the cool air, adding only to her discomfort. Then she heard a terrifying sound – the crack of a whip.

Catwoman twisted around and saw the man coming up to her, wielding a bullwhip. She recognized it. It was her own whip!

"Remember this?" the man asked, "I thought there's some justice in punishing you with your own bullwhip."

The man stepped back and threw back his arm, holding the handle of Catwoman's whip. She clinged as he threw it forward and the whip snaked towards her. Its braided length bit her across her exposed buttocks, causing her to buck forward.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman screamed into her gag.

The man reeled in the whip again, and then struck again, this time striking across her exposed breasts in front of her chest. They bounced as the leather hit them and Catwoman screamed once again as the pain shot through her.

"Are you enjoying this as much as I am?" the man asked. Catwoman could only shake her head in silent protest, only for the man to swing the whip upwards now, striking her crotch. She screamed once more as the brutal pain tore through her vulva.

The man landed blow after blow on the helpless captive, causing Catwoman to scream again and again into her gag. Soon, her buttocks, crotch and breasts were covered with red welts. Beads of sweat covered her body, soaking through the purple fabric of her costume until dark patches spotted throughout her body. She had never experienced so much torment before. There was no way she could defend herself in her bound position, and with her breasts, buttocks and crotch completely open to assault. The man finally stopped after dozens of blows, by which time, Catwoman was barely conscious.

"Let that be a lesson to you, bitch." The man said. He now took a fourth piece of rope, doubled it and hitched the looped end Catwoman's left knee. He fed the running ends under the lines in front of her left armpit, then began to pull up her left knee. Once her left foot was completely off the ground, all the weight of her body were now concentrated on the lines binding her breasts, adding even more to her torment. She moaned repeatedly into her gag but the man ignored her as he raised her left knee until it was level to her right knee, before tying it off. In this position, her torso was tilted back at an angle, forming a convex arch with her unprotected crotch pointing forward.

The man reached up for the controls of the hoist again, and lowered his captive until her crotch was level with his. Then he undid the front of his pants. His penis was erect already. He grabbed her upraised thighs and pulled her crotch towards his groin. His penis penetrated her cunt easily, and he began to pump his suspended captive, raping her for a third time.

Catwoman could only continue moaning into her gag. She felt him pump him with an increasingly aggressive rhythm, shaking her body and juggling her pinched breasts in front of her as he pumped. As she was raped, she pulled and strained at her bonds, but she could not get free in her strenuously bound position. She only succeeded in pulling the lines taut against her grossly abused breasts, mistreating them even further. Finally, the man ejaculated into Catwoman. Perspiration covered the trussed captive's body, soaking her ripped purple lycra costume into a darker shade.

The man walked away from the suspended Catwoman for a moment, but if she thought that he would leave her alone for a while, she was very much mistaken. The man returned with another coil of rope. This time, after he had doubled it like the other ropes, he hitched the loop end around her trim waist, before pulling the free lines down towards her wet crotch. He came to her clitoris hood, and made a tight overhand knot where the line would rest on the hood. Then he pulled the lines cruelly in between her vagina lips, causing Catwoman to writhe with discomfort as the harsh touch of the knot dug through her clitoris hood and pressed into her love knob. The man then made another knot, this time at the spot where the lines crossed her anus. Then, he pulled the remaining lines up, and fed the running ends under the rope belt around her waist, and pulled them over the top. When he pulled the lines down to tighten the lines running over her crotch. Catwoman squirmed again as she felt the second knot dig into the puckered lips of her anus. Further up, the rough hemp dug into her moist vagina mouth, disappearing between the folds of the lips. The length before and after the entrance of the rope were already being stained by the bodily fluid on the crotch. Satisfied, the man tied the lines tightly in place.

The man left Catwoman alone, but she knew that he would not be gone for long. There was the sound of rusty wheels squealing behind her, and she turned to see the man pushing a large upright hand-cart before him, whistling softly to himself. The hand-cart had a high straight back constructed out of a steel frame with a steel plate as its base. It had two large wheels on the rear of the base, and a small crate had already been placed on it, strapped in place with nylon cargo straps. He wheeled the hand-cart to the spot under the gently swaying Catwoman. Then he reached up and pressed the controls, lowering his captive onto the crate. When her rump touched the rough top of the crate, he adjusted it until her tail bone was at the front edge of the crate. Then he laid the rest of her body along the top of the crate, arching it such that the upper part of her torso swept upwards, with her shoulder blades resting against the back of the hand-cart itself.

The back of the hand-cart had snap-hooks attached to its sides. The man now clipped the hooks onto the lines running vertically under her armpits, holding her upper torso in place. He then came around to the front and stretched up Catwoman's left leg. He placed her left ankle against the side of the hand-cart, just above her head, and used a plastic zip-tie to strap it in place to the steel frame. He did the same with her right ankle, leaving the woman with her legs spread wide in front of her. Her knees pressed against the sides of her breasts, pushing them together to form a deep cleavage. Her crotch and buttocks were now the most forward part of her body, with her vulva covered by the very rope binding it and visibly digging deep into her clitoris hood and anus.

The man stepped back for a moment to admire his own handiwork. Catwoman could only pull weakly at her bonds, completely unable to escape from them or from her obscene position. Red welts cut across her naked butt and her breasts in mute testimony to her punishment.

"We can't keep your cunt unoccupied now, can we?" The man said after a while. He stepped out of view for a moment, and Catwoman heard the sound of a bag being unzipped behind her.

"Mmmmmm…" Catwoman could only moan. Her eyes watched as the man came back into view again, holding a black rubber dildo of roughly the same girth as the monster he had used on her with the chastity belt, except that this one was shorter, being only about five inches in length. However, this one was 'hairy' with fine rubber spikes running up its shank. A short wire ran out of its knobbed base with a small plastic box attached to its other end. Her eyes widened as he slipped a finger under the lines binding her crotch, and pulled the wet rope out of her vagina lip. This put a strain on her hips as the lines were pulled down. The man ignored her squirming as he passed the blunt tip of the dildo between the lines, then pressed it against her vagina mouth.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPHHHHHH!" Catwoman screamed into her cloth gag as she felt the dildo entered her cunt. Although it was still lubricated from her own juice and from the man's semen, the rubber hair of the dildo rubbed against her inside wall, sending shocks of stimulation up her arched torso, as the rubber monster was inserted remorseless into her. She could only twist and turn her head at the horrible intrusion. The man came to a stop only once the knobbed base slipped through between the lines, which then came together again around the thin wire trailing out of the dildo's base. As the man released the lines, they pushed up the base of the dildo, inserting it the last inch into Catwoman. The base of the dildo and lines pushing it disappeared when the folds of her vagina lips closed around them again. Now, only the wire and its box emerging out of her vagina lips gave evidence to the presence of the monster.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm." Catwoman moaned in response. The man now walked around to the rear of the hand-cut and tilted it back. Then he pushed Catwoman towards a corner of the hangar, where a pile of crates had been stacked. There, he turned the hand-cart around and rested it on its base, with Catwoman bound to it with her legs spread wide open. Then the man scooped up the black box dangling from her crotch, and twisted the knob on its face. Instantly, the rubber dildo inside of her squirmed to life. Catwoman threw back her head once more and screamed into her gag.

Catwoman was left alone for the rest of the night, with only the dildo to keep her company. It would squirm intensely until she was being pushed towards an orgasm, then suddenly died off, leaving her exhausted and frustrated. Then, just as she was falling off to an exhausted sleep, it would spring to life again, shaking her to the core. It was an inhuman rhythm that prevented Catwoman from getting any rest, leaving her sleep deprived and exhausted. At last, after a terrible night of torment, she managed to drop off into a tired sleep.

Catwoman was woken up by the sound of a truck engine. She opened her exhausted eyes, and saw that it was day already. She squirmed a little, pulling at her bonds, but knew that she would not be able to escape. She looked towards the source of the sound instead, and saw a large truck being backed into the hangar. She also saw that, whereas the hangar had been deserted the night before, there were several men, dressed in workmen overalls, there now, standing around as the truck came into the hangar. The man who had captured and abused her stood to one side, talking to one of the workmen.

"OK, STOP!" shouted a voice. The truck engine was turned off, and the driver got out, walking to the rear to open the rear doors. As the doors swung open, more workmen climbed out from inside the truck.

"You're late." the man said, looking into the cargo compartment of the truck.

"Sorry Boss. We had to divert a bit. The scout car spotted a police roadblock just outside the city, and we had to divert along the alternative route."

"Any trouble?" The man said, with an unfamiliar edge of concern in his voice.

"None." The driver said, "Once we took the alternate route, there was no further problems."

"Good." The man said, his voice back to normal, "The plane will be due this evening. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Get the slaves out."

The workmen now mated up a plank to the rear of the truck to form a ramp. Then, they climbed up into the compartment. One of them emerged from inside, pulling on a leather leash. Catwoman saw a woman at the end of the leash, being pulled out by a leather collar around her throat. She was blonde and tall, with the lean body of a model. She was dressed in a small black dress that clad only her midriff. The top had been pulled down to reveal a pair of naked breasts, large and bouncy, with erect pink nipples. The black bra that had previously clad them was now used to cleave gag the sobbing woman, twisted and forced between her mouth, with the rolled-up cups pushing against her cheeks, and the ends tied together behind the back of her neck. The hem had been pulled up to reveal her crotch, clad only by a pair of tiny lacy black panties, the crotch of which had been pulled aside to reveal her blonde pubic hair. Her wrists were in front of her, bound together to the front of her own panties with white zip-tie. Her thighs were bound together with two zip-ties interlocked together. She tottered down the ramp on a pair of silver rhinestone encrusted high-heeled sling-backs.

A second leash had been attached to the front of her collar. This leash led down to her crotch and under it before emerging out between her buttocks. The other end of the leash was attached to a second woman, this time an Asian. She was petite compared to the woman who had preceded her, and dressed more demurely in a white blouse and black A-line skirt. The blouse had been torn open and her small breasts with dark nipples were open to view. Unlike the first woman, her nude colored bra had not been used to gag her, but was instead used to bind her wrists before her. However, like the zip-tie binding the wrists of the first woman, it had been threaded through the leg holes of the prudish nude colored briefs she wore such that her wrists were bound to her crotch. This, of course, meant that the front of her skirt had to be cut open to give her captors access to her panties. The slit revealed a pair of slender thighs clad in pantyhose, bound together with zip-ties. She had been gagged with a strip of cloth cut from her skirt, bound behind her long silken black hair, with her lips pulled far back into an unnatural grin. She too was subjected to the indignity of a leash running down from her collar, over her crotch, and back up from under her buttocks towards a third captive.

The third captive was a black woman. She was very tall, with broad shoulders and wide hips. She was almost Amazonian, with strong looking arms and thighs. Her hair was cut short, with a flat-top, in a style more like a man's. She was obviously an athlete, particularly given what she was clad in. Or rather, the remnants of what she was clad in. She was wearing a white sleeveless tennis dress with short hem, the front of which had been cut open from the neck to the bottom. Under the dress, she wore a white cotton set of sports bra and panties. The cups of the bra had been sliced open to expose her firm breasts with their dark nipples, while the crotch of her panties had been cut such that the panties gathered around her waist without reaching down to cover her groin. Of the three captives, she was the most tightly bound, with her elbows pulled behind her and zip-tied together. Her wrists were bound in the same way, as were her thighs. Unlike the other two women, who had improvised gags, hers was a large red ball-gag, strapped around her head and buckled behind the back of her neck. She was struggling against the workmen holding her even as she was led out of the truck, still wearing white tennis shoes.

"Good batch this time." The man said, scrutinizing the three women as they were led out of the truck, "OK, process them."

The three women were led towards the corner where Catwoman had been left. Their eyes came to rest on the hapless captive bound in her lewd posture, and for a moment, Catwoman felt the hot flash of shame flood her cheeks. She tore weakly at her bonds, but this only add to her humiliation as all she succeeded in doing was to shake her booty and juggle her bound breasts.

"So, I see that you're awake already." The man said, looking at his captives. The workmen around him also looked at Catwoman, their lust, ill-disguised. She could only look away in shame.

"Oh, don't turn away. I want you to see this." The man said, coming up to her, taking a leather strap from an inner pocket in his jacket. He forced Catwoman's head back to the centre, facing forward, and used the strap to bind her head in place against the frame of the hand-cart. He then reached down and turned on the dildo again, albeit at a low setting, just enough to start stimulating her loins, causing the captive to squirm.

"Don't worry, we'll take turns to pump you later. Meanwhile, we need to get these three squared away." The man said, "All three had been 'acquired' at the order of my clients. This one here, the blonde one, is a super-model that had turned down the wrong man, and found herself abducted from a nightclub. This one is a District DA that had prosecuted the wrong mobster. Now, she'll be on her way to his own private harem. And this one … oh, she's special. You may have seen her at tennis tournaments around the world. The up-and-coming tennis star. Well, she's not to my taste, a bit too of an Amazon, but someone had taken a fancy to her, given how she's always shaking her upraised butt while waiting to receive a serve."

The workmen now detached the women from one another, removing the leashes linking them together. They were then placed in a row facing Catwoman. The workmen set to work now, using knives to cut the remaining clothes from the frightened women while Catwoman could only watch helplessly from between her opened legs.

The workmen first released the women from their current bonds. The blonde's and the black woman's zip-ties, as well as the Asian woman's bra, were cut. Their arms, however, were held tightly to prevent them from escaping.

The black woman put up a furious fight, however, once her arms were free. However, with her thighs still bound together with zip-ties and with several workmen around her, they had no trouble wrestling her down to a kneeling position. The man then stepped forward and delivered a few sharp slaps which stunned the woman, allowing the workman to proceed to the second stage of the process.

The workmen now produced rolls of elastic self-adhersive rubber bondage tape. The women's arms were pulled behind their backs, so severely that their elbows almost touch. With one workmen holding each of the women with their elbows together, another would begin to roll the tape tightly around their upper arms, beginning from near the armpits down to the elbow. The tapes prevented the women from pulling their arms forward even when they were released. The workmen now held their wrists together instead as their colleagues continued to wrap their arms. When their wrists were secured together, their palms were now placed against one another, and their hands wrapped together as well, trapping their thumbs to the sides of their hands.

One of the workmen came up to the women, and handed a leather mono-glove, a conical leather sheath that would bind their arms together behind their backs, with leather shoulder straps to keep the gloves up around their arms. With their arms already bound behind their backs, the women could do nothing as the leather sheaths were slipped up their arms, and strapped in place over their shoulders. The men then tied the laces that ran up the entire length of the gloves, tightening them until they pressed tightly against the women's arms, making their bondage even more secure.

The next items to be distributed were chastity belts. Unlike the inhumane metallic one that had been used on Catwoman, these were made from more pliable leather. They were essentially large 'Y's, with the two upper extensions going over the prisoners' hips. The ends were buckled tightly in place to clinch in the waist. Unlike the steel chastity belt that had been used on her, these did not have dildos affixed. Instead, Catwoman saw that they had plastic bulbs placed on them. She realized that they were vibrator eggs. These women would not be spared the sexual torment that she had been subjected to, but apparently, they would not be inserted with dildos as yet. The workmen gathered up the ends of the strap, and pulled them up against the groins of the captives, and looped their ends over the leather belts around their waists. The ends were then secured in place through buckles bolted to the straps over the small of the backs of the prisoners.

Once their groins were bound, the workmen began work on their thighs. Their knees were placed together, with the black woman continuing to remain on her knees, struggling futilely against the combined strength of the men holding her. Using elastic bondage tape, the men bound the women's thighs together. Then, leather hobble skirts were distributed. These were belted around their waist, just above their chastity belt. Beefy leather garters extended from this belt down to around the captives' thighs, attached to a leather apron. The sides of the opening of the apron down the back of their thighs had sets of straps sewn to them. These were now buckled together tightly in place, trapping the women's thighs together. This arrangement covered the whole of their thighs, but kept their buttocks and crotch uncovered.

Next, leather corsets were distributed and put around the women's waists. These had large zips running up the front, which made it convenient for the captors to apply them around the torso of the women. At the same time, they had lacings run up both sides, which the captors could then pull tight, clinching in their waists. As the severe bones of the corsets dug into their flesh, the women squealed, but the men continued tightening mercilessly, stealing inches off their captives' waistlines and imposing a harsh hourglass figure on them. The corsets only had half-cups for their breasts. This, together with the strictures of the corset forced the women's breasts enticingly forward and up. They juggled as the women writhed in agony as the men completed tying up the laces on their sides.

The black woman was pulled up to her feet now. All the bondage imposed on the women had dramatically altered their silhouettes. The mono-gloves had forced their arms out of sight and caused them to trust out their chests and arch their backs, while their thighs had been forced together, foisting an hour-glass shape to all their bodies, a shape that was further reinforced by the strict corsets they now all wore.

The women were now thrown down on their backs. Their remaining footwear was removed and cast asides. In their place, the workmen now shod their feet with the ultra-high spike heel boots, similar to the ones that had been imposed on Catwoman, except that these reached only to the knees of the women, near the hem of their hobble skirts. Once the footwear had been laced tightly in place on their feet, they were lifted up to a standing position. All three of them clearly found the severe arch of the soles difficult, as they swayed and tottered, unable to use their hobbled knees and bound arms to help them balance.

Finally, to complete their bonds, the workmen took rubber ball-gags, and placed them in the mouths of the blonde and the Asian woman, replacing the former's bra, and the latter's fabric cleave-gag. Then, the man who had captured Catwoman lifted up a remote control, and melodramatically mashed down on the button on top. Buzzing sounds could be heard, coming from the crotches of the women. They all looked started, and began to squeal and squirm, but were held tightly in place by the men.

"How do you like the show, slave?" the man asked Catwoman. She did not reply. She was having troubles of her own. She was becoming horny again from the vibration of the dildo inside her vagina tract. She was already juicing again, and she moaned as she wriggled her buttocks. The man laughed and reached down, pulling the dildo inside of her out, parting the lines of her crotch rope to allow the rubber monster to slip out, still wriggling. He pulled the lines aside to clear the path into her vagina, then turned to the workmen.

"Well done boys." The man said, "Now, for a little reward for your labour, you can have this pussy, if you want."

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Catwoman moaned into her gag, pleading, but the workmen were already laughing at her predicament, coming forward to line up before her. She could only close her eyes, waiting for the first rape to come.

Catwoman lost count of how many times she was raped. Given that there were at least a dozen men in the hangar, she guessed that she had been violated at least that number of times, although some of the men had seconds. Her pussy was aching from all the pounding that she had received. To add to her torment, she was hungry and thirsty, having not been fed or given a drink since the time she was captured. To further her humiliation, her fellow captives were forced to watch as she was defiled again and again. A rope was tied between two pillars, threaded through the D-rings of the women's collars, forcing them to stand near to where Catwoman was bound to the hand-cart, her legs spread wide-open.

The man finally put a stop to the orgy after several hours. He ordered that Catwoman be cut from the hand-cart, and her legs released from where they were bound next to her chest. However, she was not to have free use of her legs. The free lines of her crotch rope, dangling from behind her back, were separated, and the end of each of the lines used to bind her ankles, after her legs were folded up such that her ankles touch the sides of her buttocks. The shortness of the lines was such that her legs were spread open before her as she kneeled on the floor.

Catwoman's wrists were now released from their bound positions over her shoulder blades. The free lines running over her shoulders were now pulled down in front of her. The lines were hitched together with a knot about a foot from her breasts. Their ends were then parted from one another. Her wrists were now pulled up before her, each bound with one end, leaving about a foot between her tied wrists. The men used a tight knot to tie the lines around her wrists, which could not be untied by the captive, given that her hands were trapped within the fingerless gloves. The man stepped forward and attached a leash to her collar once more.

"On your hands and knees!" the man ordered, jerking hard on the leash, forcing Catwoman to drop forward onto her hands. As he continued pulling, she reluctantly raised her butt up. With her ankles bound to the sides of her buttocks, she had to lift her folded legs up as well until the points of her knees were resting on the floor. With her upper arms still bound against the sides of her upper torso, she had to arch her back down in order for her hands to be able to reach the floor in this position.

"You really do look like a cat, bound like this." The man said, smirking, "But there's just one more thing you need."

Catwoman twisted her head around to see the man uncoiling the bull-whip – her bullwhip! - that had been used on her the night before. She shook her head when she realized what he intended, but he pulled back on the leash to prevent her from moving as he knelt down behind her. He then pressed the butt of the bullwhip between the lines of her crotch rope, before sweeping them together into position between her vagina lips. Then he inserted the blunt end of the bullwhip into her pussy.

Catwoman jerked back her head as she felt the tip entered her. Although it was not as wide as the dildos that had been used on her by the man, the handle was covered with braided leather. The folds of the leather rubbed against her inside, causing her much discomfort in spite of the fact that her tunnel had remained lubricated from all the rapes she had endured. The man forced the whip in about five inches, before stopping. This still left about five inches of the handle outside of her cunt, at the end of which the remaining length of the whip curved down to the floor to trail behind her upraised crotch. The effect was that she looked as if she had a leather tail emerging out of her crotch.

"Crawl!" the man ordered, pulling on the leash. Catwoman was forced to shuffle her hands and knees forward, one after the other as the man led her away from the hand-cart she had been bound to. As she crawled, the way her arms and were bound to her body caused the lines to keep pulling at her breasts, kneading them. At the same time, the knot over her clitoris hood kept being pressed into her knob as her bound ankles pulled at the lines binding them, even as the whip inserted into her cunt kept swinging from side to side, rubbing the inside of her vagina. All combined to stimulate her body again, and she became horny once more, in spite of herself. As the man led her past the other bound women, she stole a glance up to see the women look down at her in fear. And pity.

The man led Catwoman up to a plastic feeding bowl. It was filled with milk. The man reached around behind her neck, and undid the knot tying the improvised ball-gag constructed from her costume's crotch piece of a rubber ball, and pulled it out of her mouth.

"Do you want a drink, slave?" the man asked.

"Ye…yes." Catwoman responded, then tried to reach down for the milk. A slap landed on her right cheek, knocking her to her side.

"Get up!" the man ordered, tugging on her leash. Catwoman slowly crawled back up on her hands and knees again, the sting on her cheek only slowly fading away.

"Yes, what?" the man demanded. Catwoman knew what was required of her. She did not want to say it, but the milk before her was just out of reach.

"Yes … yes, Master." Catwoman said, hanging her head in shame at being forced to say the word.

"Good." The man said, "You are learning. But you cannot drink yet. You must earn your food here."

The man held up something in his hand. At first, Catwoman could not tell what it was. It was a triangular rubber panel, that looked rather like one of those old-fashioned oxygen mask used by aircrew. The difference was that it seemed to be constructed of two-halves, with a slot down the middle, making it seemed rather like rubber lips turned on one side. With a start, she saw that it resembled a woman's vulva. When the man turned the mask around, she saw that a short stiff rubber tube, about two inches in diameter had been fitted into its centre.

A leather strap emerged from the top, while a strap was attached to each of its two sides. The top strap had a loop at its tip, which could be adjusted by clinching in or letting out the buckle securing the tip of the strap back on itself. The side straps could be buckled together in the conventional manner of a collar.

The man grabbed Catwoman's forehead and pulled back on it, forcing her to part her jaws, after which he jammed the tube into her mouth. When he released her head and allowed her to lower it, she found that the stiffness of the rubber tube in her mouth prevented her from closing her jaws at all. The man now pulled the top strap over the top of her head, between the ears of her cowl, before pulling the straps to the sides of the mask around her head to the back of her neck. He mated the ends together, after inserting the left strap through the loop of the top-strap, which now rested against the back of her neck. Once the straps were buckled in place, the mask was fitted snugly over her nose and mouth.

The man now came in front of Catwoman. He opened the front of his pants and lowered it.

"You know what to do, Catslave." The man sneered. Catwoman understood all too well. She also understood that she had no choice, not if she wanted to drink the milk. Reluctantly, she leaned her head forward. She found that she could extend her tongue out through the opening in the tube, even if she could not close her jaws. Using it, she licked the man's penis, tasting the bitter tanginess coating his tip. It helped that he was already having an erection. Soon, it was stiff enough for him to insert it into her mouth as her tongue retreated back through the tube. The warm tip came through the rubber tube, into her mouth. She then begin to work her tongue against its tip, manipulating it as the man began to pump her face, confident that she would not bite him, with the stiffness of the tube keeping her from slamming her jaws shut on him. It took a while, with the man pumping her hard, but soon, he ejaculated, shooting his sperm into the back of her throat, causing his slave to cough for a moment. As she recovered, the man withdrew himself from inside her mouth. He then reached behind her neck and unbuckled the top strap, allowing the rubber mask to slip out of her mouth and fall to her chest, still secured around her neck.

"You may drink the milk now." The man said, zipping his pants up.

Catwoman reached down eagerly and began to lap up the milk with her tongue. She drank hungrily, splashing milk against her chin. Her buttocks undulated behind her as she worked her tongue, curling up the liquid, until the bowl was entirely empty. When she was done, the man reached down, and pulled up the rubber mask over her face again, restoring the rubber tube between her jaws. He strapped it tightly in place behind her head once more.

"Boss, the plane is arriving." One of the workmen told the man when he was done.

"Good, just in time." The man said, tugging on Catwoman's leash again. She was forced to crawl behind him, the leather tail in her cunt waving provocatively behind her as he led her out of the hangar onto the tarmac. Sure enough, there was the sound of engines droning, and she turned to see a growing dot coming towards the airfield in the fading evening light. As the dot grew larger and larger, she could distinguish its shape. It was twin-engined, with each of the engine turning a propeller on either side. It looked like one of those old cargo planes she seen in war movies. The plane swooped down gracefully to bounce along the runway until it settled onto its wheels. It began to slow until it came to a stop towards the other end of the runway. Then it turned towards the hangar and swung around until its nose was pointed the direction from which it came.

"Get the women out." The man ordered as rear cargo ramp of the plane was lowered. Soon, the women were being led out, their collars once again being linked together with leashes running down from the necks, over the crotches and up their buttocks. They were led struggling towards the plane.

"Move it, Catslave!" the man ordered, tugging on the leash of Catwoman. She was forced to crawl behind him towards the plane. It took a while for her to crawl the distance from the hangar to the plane. By the time she got there, she saw that the women had already been secured to one side of the fuselage. They were in standing position and their bound arms were pressed against panels on the steel behind them. These panels had leather straps attached, which were secured over and under the women's breasts, pinning their torso against the panel. Their crotches in turn were resting on triangular steel brackets poking out between their thighs. These brackets were wielded to the bottom of the panels to form 'seats' for the women. Catwoman winced when she saw that the tip of the triangles were pointing up, meaning that the women were 'sitting' on the top edge of the brackets. They looked understandably distressed. Their feet were resting on the floor, but their ankles and thighs were strapped to the fuselage behind them, securing them in place.

The man led Catwoman to the centre of the cargo hold, which was mostly empty. Here, a nylon cargo strap dangled from the ceiling of the fuselage. It was fitted with a D-ring at its tip. A large chrome steel hook with a blunt rounded tip dangled from the ring. About a metre in front of this first strap, another nylon strap had been secured to a ring on the floor of the fuselage. The other end of the strap had a brass snap-hook attached to it.

Catwoman was led to a point just in front of the cargo strap. The man reached down under her swaying breasts and took hold of the second nylon strap. He fitted the snap-hook to the nexus of lines between her breasts. Now he stood up and went around behind her. He fished something out of his pocket and there was the sound of a cap being popped open. Catwoman twisted her head around to see that it was a clear plastic bottle. He was squeezing some vicous clear liquid onto the tip of the hook. Closing the bottle, he placed the bottle back into his jacket pocket. He took the hook and pulled it around Catwoman's upraised rump.

Catwoman was startled when she felt the cold tip of the hook being placed against her anus. She gathered that the item was a butt-hook. She had used something similar during her days as a dominatrix, but it was a new sensation for her to have the steel digit being inserted into her. She shuddered as she felt the steel part the puckered mouth of her anus and force its way in until she felt the coldness of the shank against her skin.

"This should hold you in place." The man said. He stood up and disappeared into the cockpit, leaving the female captives in the cargo hold in their bondage. Catwoman, in particular, was left standing on her hands and knees, her butt kept raised in the air by the butt-hook, with the whip emerging from her cunt like a tail.

Shortly after that, Catwoman heard the engines being raved up, and the plane lurged forward. As this happened, she fell back on the hook inside her butt. She moaned as she felt the shank forced its way deeper into her rectum. At the same time, the hook between her breasts brought the lines binding them up short, causing them to constrict around her breasts, adding to her discomforts.

As the plane accelerated down the runway, the pressures on Catwoman's anus and her breasts increased until the aircraft reached a steady speed. Then its nose rotated upwards, and the plane leapt into the air. As it did so, Catwoman fell even further back, putting even more strain on her anus and her breasts. She could only shake her head at the discomfort and moan into the rubber mask on her face.

The plane seemed to climb up forever, stretching out Catwoman's discomfort, until – at last – it began to level out. However, another source of discomfort now replaced the pressures on her breasts and anus. At this attitude, the temperature inside the cargo hold began to drop. As it got colder, Catwoman felt her nipples began to engorge even as the steel in her butt turned cold as well. It was a most unpleasant way for her to fly.

Mere minutes after the aircraft leveled itself, the man emerged from the cockpit. He came up to where Catwoman was, and knelt down. He unbuckled the harness holding the latex vagina to her mouth and pulled the gag out of the orifice. But before she could make any sound, he took another gag and stuffed it between her jaws. This one was a penis gag with the molded rubber tip of a penis mounted on a leather panel, which was strapped around her head, behind her neck. However, extended out of the front was another rubber penis, this one a full seven inches long, of thick girth. Its weight forced the tip of the rubber penis in Catwoman's mouth up against the roof of her mouth.

The man next took a piece of rope and tied it around the nylon strap holding up the butt-hook in Catwoman's ass. He then pulled the other end of the rope down to straps holding the penis gag in her mouth, tying it in place. In this way, Catwoman was forced to hold her head up, looking forward, her purple ears pointing straight up and the long dildo in front of her mouth pointing straight ahead.

"Now, this is not a vacation flight for you." the man said, after satisfying himself on the hapless Catwoman, "You will have to work your passage. To begin with, I think you'll have to help to train these new additions here."

The man disappeared from Catwoman's view for a while. Over the roar of the aircraft's engines, she could not hear what he was doing. When he came back into view again, she saw that he was holding one of the three captives. It was the Asian woman, and she looked terrified as she tottered on her high-heels and glanced down at Catwoman. The man brought her to a point in front of Catwoman's face, and knocked in her knees to force her into a kneeling position, the spike heels of her boots coming to rest on the floor under Catwoman's chin. The man now raised up her arms high into the air. This forced her to bend her lithe torso forward until her arms were pointing vertically into the air and her body was horizontal to the floor.

In this position, the Asian's cunt was almost directly in front of Catwoman's face, the slit of her vulva plainly visible. The tip of the dildo extended out the front of her mouth was in the perfect position to penetrate the Asian's cunt. The man reached up and took a snap-hook suspended from the ceiling of the fuselage via a nylon cargo strap and secured it to the D-ring on the tip of the mono-glove holding the Asian captive's arms together, holding her in her kneeling strappado. The man disappeared from view for a while, and returned with a duplicate of the gag now in Catwoman's mouth, and replaced the Asian's ball-gag with it.

The man disappeared, and returned, this time with the blonde. He placed her in the same posture as the Asian woman, lined up before the latter's face. He then replaced her gag with a penis gag as well, before disappearing from view again, only to reappear, leading the last captive, the African, which he placed in the same position as the others. This last woman gave him some trouble as she attempted to fight him, even in her bound condition. However, he easily overpowered her and forced her to kneel in front of the blonde. Her arms were raised up and secured in place.

The four captives were now lined up in a row. The three in the rear of the African all had rubber penis gags now. Only the African still wore her ball-gag. This was soon remedied when the man took the rubber vagina gag that had previously been placed on Catwoman and used it to replace the ball-gag, covering the black's face.

The man now went away for a moment, and returned with some leather leashes. These were relatively short, about two-feet long. Catwoman saw that there were small snap-hooks secured on each end of the leashes. He dropped the leashes on the floor next to the purple lycra-clad captive, before taking a plastic bottle out of his jacket pocket. He popped it open and came up to Catwoman. He squeezed a clear liquid onto the rubber dildo swaying under her nose and rubbed it all over the black exterior. From experience, she knew that this was lubricant. He replaced the bottle in his pocket, then took one of the leashes. He secured one hook to Catwoman's collar, then pulled the leash forward. This forced Catwoman to push her head forward. The tip of the dildo in front of her mouth bumped into the crotch of the woman in front, causing her to wriggle her butt.

The man gave the Asian's buttock a tight slap, leaving a red mark. He then seized the shank of the dildo and placed the tip against the vagina mouth of the Asian. A gagged squeal came from the front end of the Asian as the tip entered her. He then looped the leash around the front of the bound legs of the Asian, and pulled, forcing Catwoman to lean forward further, pushing the dildo into the Asian. The latter could only squeal again.

The man now took the other end of the leash and pull it back from the other side of the Asian, and back to Catwoman's collar, where he attach it to the D-ring. This left Catwoman's face mere inches from the Asian's crotch, with her nose near to the woman's anus. This also prevented her from pulling her head back, thus removing the rubber dildo from the Asian's cunt.

The man now walked up to the front of the Asian. He repeated the process with her now, and secured her penis gag in the cunt of the blonde. Then, he did the same with the blonde, who ended up with her face inches from the crotch of the black female captive. All four women were now tied together in a chain.

The man disappeared from view again, leaving the women to squirm and moan in their joint suffering and humiliation. Then, Catwoman heard a thump behind her, as if something heavy had been placed behind her. Next, she felt the whip that had been trust inside of her pull out unceremoniously. She yelped into her gag from the sensation. Then, she felt something thick and slick penetrated her vagina mouth. She sucked in a breath as the object spread her vagina wall and entered her tract. She realized that she just had a dildo shove up her vagina again.

The man came back into view again, and went around to the front of the chain, directly in front of the black woman. He unzipped and lowered his pants, and Catwoman could just see over the upraised rumps of the women ahead to observe the fact that the man's penis was already erect.

The man grinned evilly as he held up a remote control, and pressed down on a button on it. Instantly, Catwoman let out a squeal as she felt the rubber dildo behind her move, driving itself into her. The whirl of a motor could be heard even over the sound of the aircraft's engines. It was a deep and forceful thrust, which forced Catwoman to move her face forward. This, in turn, forced the dildo mounted before her face to be driven deeper into the Asian in front. This, of course, forced the Asian to do the same with her own dildo gag, transmitting the motion to the blonde, who had to do the same to the black woman. Finally, the black woman had to thrust her face forward. The man seized her head, and inserted his penis into the opening on the vagina gag over her face.

Catwoman felt the powerful thrust from behind her again, and in spite of herself, she transmitted the push to the Asian in front of her, who in turn spread it down the line until the black woman thrust her face forward, swallowing the man's cock deep into her mouth.

This happened again and again, causing the women to thrust their hips and face forward, again and again, ultimately causing the black woman to run her mouth up and down over the man's penis. The man was effectively raping and humiliating all four women at the same time, with the black woman now being reserved for the ultimate sentence of having to give the man an enforced blow-job.

Catwoman could not believe the deviousness of the man's mind, and how cruel he could be, to have invented this arrangement to force the women to rape each other, with Catwoman as the initiator of the others' suffering. Yet, even though she was unwilling to be the instrument of her fellow captives' torment, she had no choice as the machine behind her pumped her powerful, stroke after stroke, forcing her to push her face forward time and again.

Catwoman felt herself becoming more and more horny as the machine worked away on her cunt. In front of her, she could see that the Asian was also beginning to juice, with white liquid seeping out from her vagina mouth around the rubber monster being shoved up and down the tract. Gagged moans and squeals was audible even over the droning of the engines.

Then, against her will, Catwoman felt the shudder of a powerful orgasm which sent chills up her body. She moaned with a mixture of sexual ecstasy and humiliation. Shortly afterwards, the Asian in front of her did the same thing, sending a steady stream of cum out of her cunt, down her crotch, slicking the black surface of her hobble skirt stretched around her legs. Way ahead, the blonde and black were the last to give in, but they too cummed, even as the black worked her mouth furiously over the man's penis. Finally, the man ejaculated. He sighed visibly before withdrawing his penis from the black's mouth.

The man smiled at the women as he zipped up his pants. He held up the remote control again, and – much to Catwoman's relief – stopped the infernal machine behind her. However the dildo was still embedded in her cunt, and the man made no move to remove it, or to release the women from the fiendish arrangement he had placed them in. Instead, he turned and walked back to the cockpit of the plane, leaving the women in their bondage behind him.

Over the long flight, the man and the members of the aircraft's crew made use of the arrangement. Each of them would rape four women at once with the machine, forcing them into sexual ecstasy against their will while satisfying themselves in the mouth of the black woman. Catwoman could only imagine what her state would be like now. Her mouth must be stained and filled with the men's semen.

After hours of this ordeal, the man came to the cargo hold again. He looked down at the bound and helpless Catwoman, kneeling on all fours behind her fellow captive, her head still covered by her purple Catwoman cowl even as her face was almost buried in the latter's crotch. Her heavy breasts swayed beneath her chest as the machine behind her rammed the giant dildo up and down her love canal, forcing her to pump the woman in front of her, transmitting the torment she was enduring.

"If only you know how pathetic you look, Catwoman," the man said derisively, "You look exactly like what you are, a slut dressed up in a tarty costume."

Catwoman was too exhausted to react, even if she was stung by the insult. The man went around to behind her and switched off the machine. The rubber dildo within her ceased its motion, still buried deep within her. She panted softly as she knelt on all fours, awaiting helplessly the next abuse the man would dream up.

"I would love to have more fun with you, but unfortunately, we're about to arrive at our destination. It's time to prepare the lot of you for transportation."

The man reached down and released Catwoman's collar from the leash binding it to the woman in front of her. Then he withdrew the rubber dildo from deep within her. Next, he released the rope binding the butthook to the straps of her harness gag, before pulling the steel hook out from her anus. Finally, he untied her ankles from her thighs, and allowed her to stand up. In front of her, the other women were being released from their kneeling position, and brought to a standing position by the other men. Their penis gags were now removed from their heads, but were immediately replaced by large ball gas, secured by thin leather straps around their heads, propping their jaws apart, forcing them to drool almost immediately.

Catwoman and her fellow captives were brought to a corner of the cargo hold. She found herself looking at four long pods, leaning against the side of the fuselage. They were made from some sort of shiny plastic, and were formed in the shape of women, complete with emotionless faces and breasts, with the shapes of their 'arms' pulled behind their backs, and their legs meshed together. One of the other men went to the side of one of the pods, and undid a series of snap fasteners along the side. He then swung open the front like a lid to reveal a narrow cavity cut into rubber foam lining the inside of the pod.

Catwoman's slaver now turned to her. He untied her wrists from in front of her, then turned her roughly around. Her wrists were crossed behind her, and in a moment, they had been secured together with handcuffs behind the small of her back. Then she was led up to the open pod and turned around, before being pushed into the cavity. She felt the rubber foam squeeze in the side of her arms as she was nestled into the cavity, her bound arms being pinned helplessly behind her back. Then her legs were pushed into the cavity too, with the rubber foam now pushing her knees and ankles together, hobbling them. Then the lid of the pod was swung close. The inside of the lid was lined with rubber foam too, and these too pressed into the front of her body. There was no need for any additional binding to immobilize Catwoman's body completely. Then, there was the dull snaps of the fasteners being applied, locking her into the pod.

Catwoman found that there was a space in front of her face that was not covered with foam, allowing her to breathe. Two holes had been pierced through the nose of the plastic face to allow air to come in. The eyes were actually fitted with eyepieces that allowed her to look out, but mirrored such that no one could look through them onto the inside. The rubber encompassing her head blocked out much of the sound from the outside, and prevented her from moving her head. She could only use her eyes to see what was happening outside through the limited field of view of the eyepieces.

Catwoman saw that the other women were now being put into the other pods. Then she felt the pod she was in being moved. She realized that there were small coasters under the heel of the pod, and she was slid from the fuselage side to the centre of the cargo hold. She was then laid flat onto the floor, looking up. Glancing to the sides, she saw the other pods being laid one by one next to her. Then nylon cargo straps were applied over the pods to pin them in place.

Catwoman and her fellow captives were left on the floor for a period of time as the aircraft turned and made its final approach. A firm bump and a loud roar penetrating even the rubber foam of the pod told her that they have – at last – landed. After another long period, the aircraft finally came to a stop.

Then, light began to flood into the interior of the cargo hold, and Catwoman guessed that the ramp must have been lowered. Workers now came up to the pods and unstrapped them. They were then tilted up and pulled out of the aircraft, rolling on their coasters.

Through the eyepieces of the pods, Catwoman could see that they are in a busy airfield. There were many other workers around, and she even caught sight of uniformed personnel. Yet, they did not look the least interested at the four pods being moved. Perhaps they thought that nothing more than mannequins were being transported. She wanted to call out to them, to cry for help, but nothing escaped her gagged mouth. Even if she could make some noise, the plastic pod most probably would contain any sound she made.

The pods were lifted up, and placed standing up. Catwoman looked out of her plastic prison to see that they have been placed in the flatbed of a truck. Straps were used to secure the pods in an upright position, and the back of the flatbed closed. Then the truck was started up. As she looked out, she saw the buildings of the airfield flash past.

The truck came to a halt, and Catwoman saw a uniformed man came around, holding a clipboard in his hand. He looked like some sort of customs official, although the uniform was not familiar to her. Here was her chance! She twisted and squirmed inside her prison, and tried yelling through her gag, but she could not move, pressed as she was by rubber foam all around her. Then, with a sinking heart, she saw the uniformed man wave, and the truck started again.

The truck now turned into a bumpy road. It travelled for a while along a mostly empty road until it joined a far busier road. In fact, the truck ground to a slow crawl as it became enmeshed in a traffic jam. The truck was surrounded by other vehicles. There were so many others all around the truck, and yet none of them could see that four women were being held captive before their very eyes. In fact, Catwoman caught the eyes of several drivers resting on the pods, but none seem to find anything suspicious.

After what seemed like hours, the truck finally turned off the busy main roads, and took a series of small back roads. The more well-constructed buildings that had lined the main roads now gave way to more ramshackle constructions of the sort Catwoman had seen in documentaries about slums in Third World countries. Then, the truck turned into through a gate in a walled compound, and finally ground to a halt.

Workers now climbed onto the flat-bed of the truck. The pods were now unstrapped, and they were pulled off the flatbeds. They were then rolled at an angle, and Catwoman found herself looking up at the sky. Then, as she was brought into a building, the concrete ceiling of a corridor. After a while, she was led through a door and laid flat on the floor. The lid was opened, and hands reached in, pulling the bound captive out from her rubber prison. She was roughly lifted onto her feet, and out of the pod.

Catwoman glanced around at her new surroundings. She saw that she was in a large hall, with bare concrete floor, walls and ceilings. There were no windows anywhere she could see, and the hall was lit by large white lights dangling from wires from the tall ceiling. To her shock and horror, she saw that there were many others like her and her fellow captives. This end of the hall was littered with pods and captives being pulled out onto their feet. She was not able to count them, but she guessed that there were at least a dozen women, including herself and her fellow captives. They were all bound like her fellow captives, whom were being pulled out of their own pods, with looks of shock and horror on their faces as they took in their new predicament.

Once all the women were extracted, guards wearing green camouflaged uniform and jungle boots began shepherding them together. They wielded cattle prods, which they did not hesitate to use against the slower ones, which included Catwoman, who felt the sharp bite of electricity on her naked rump, which prompted her to totter forward towards the cluster of other women. Once they were gathered together near the middle of the hall, the guards began to string them out. She saw that they were now being arranged according to their height, with the shortest to the left and the tallest to the right. She was placed near to the right-handed end of the line, with the black Amazon the only one being taller than her, while the Asian captive was brought towards the other end. Once they were arranged, the guards cruelly used the cattle prods to ensure that the line remained straight, eliciting gagged cries of anguish from the victims of their attention.

When the captives settled down, a small group of men marched into the hall from a door at the other end of the space. Catwoman saw that her slaver was amongst them. From the he walked, he was obviously the boss, the one in charge. The guards saluted as he marched up to the line of captives, and walked up the line from the left to the right. He paused to examine some of the captives, hefting their breasts, or pulling up their chin to look at their faces.

"Eyes forward!" came a sharp command from behind Catwoman before she felt the sharp bite of the cattle prod again. She yelped into her gag, and took an involuntarily step forward, before strong hands pulled her back into line again. She looked up, she saw the man standing in front of her, looking up at her gagged face.

"Still as disobedient, I see." the man said, smiling evilly, "I think you should definitely be punished now."

The man gave a curt nod, and Catwoman was pulled out of line. She was pushed towards the wall to the right, where she saw a steel hook dangling by chain from high above the ceiling. She knew what was coming, and she struggled, but to no avail. She was brought up to the hook, and one of the guards grabbed the hook. He fed it through all the lines criss-crossing her breasts. The other guards then grabbed her body and lifted her upwards. The first guard then placed the hook through the nexus formed by the lines of her crotch rope as they snaked towards her crotch after encircling her waist. When they released her, her entire body weight came to rest on her crotch rope, which now bit deep into her vulva. She could only throw her head back in anguish, as her legs kicked uselessly under her as she tried to find a foothold. There was none, as the tip of her boots dangled a mere inch off the floor. But that was not the end of it. Another guard now came forward, carrying a riding crop in his hand.

"Let this be a warning to all of you." Catwoman's slaver said, addressing the other women, "Disobedience will be very severely dealt with. What you see now is only the mildest of the corrective measures we will apply to you, should you be as foolish as this slave here."

The guard with the riding crop grinned, and swung back his arm. Catwoman groaned, dreading what was to come. As the crop was swung forward, it contacted her naked right butt. She bucked and screamed into her gag.

"MMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman moaned again as the crop was swung, this time contacting her right breasts, leaving an ugly red welt. She bucked once again as the crop was now applied to her left breast. Then her left butt. Then her right butt again. The guard only stopped after a dozen blows, leaving lines of pain criss-crossing her naked mounds.

"Start processing the slaves." the man ordered.

The guards now came forward and began to pull the women forward one by one. They started with the Asian girl first. She was brought to the front of the line, in the middle of the hall. As Catwoman watched from her suspended bondage, they took a leash and attached it to her collar. One of the guard held the other end of the leash, proffering his cattle prod as a warning before the other guards removed the items of bondage hobbling her thighs and binding her arms. Next they released the chastity belt from around her waist, but left the cruel high-heeled boots on her feet. Then, they pulled her arms before her, and crossed her wrists, with her palms facing out and forward. They then applied a thick leather band around her wrists, binding them together, buckling the ends in place using the strong steel buckle at one end of the band. This arrangement drew her elbows closer together, which squeezed her small breasts together to form a deep cleavage. The band had a D-ring attached to it, in front of the bound wrists, from which a snap-hook dangled. The woman's bound wrists were now lifted up and over her head until her elbows were pointed up towards the ceiling. One of the guards now slipped the hook under the buckled strap holding the collar in place, allowing the snap to spring back into place. This now trapped the woman's wrists against the back of her neck, her palms facing inwards, her elbows raised up into the air, with her arms folded on either side of her head. This now only bared her armpits, but also lifted up her breasts on her chest, displaying them for everyone to see.

The Asian woman was now led towards a row of school desks lined from left to right in the middle of the inner half of the hall. She was marched up to the wall near the left hand end of the row first, where she was pushed against the wall, where a series of lines were painted from the floor up, marking out height in terms of feet. A camera had been set up here, facing the markings. She was placed with her back against the wall, facing the camera. A number was now held up in front of her neck by a guard, above her breasts, and another guard bent down behind the camera to take a snapshot. She was then turned around such that her right side, then her left side, and finally her back, faced the camera, such that every part of her body would be captured.

The Asian woman was next pulled towards the first of the desks, where a weighing scale had been placed. She was forced to step up on it, and her weight read out. The guard sitting behind the desk recorded her weight on a laptop on the desk, before the woman was pulled off the scale towards the next desk.

The guard leading the Asian slave took a tape measure from the second desk. He looped it around the woman's breasts, then her waist, then her hips, calling out her measurements, which the guard sitting behind the desk recorded on his laptop.

The Asian woman was led to the third desk now. She was bent over before the desk such that her cunt was openly displayed. The guard holding her now took an acrylic rod from the desk, and inserted it into her pussy. He pushed it in until it could go in no deeper, and then called out the number he saw on the markings on the acrylic rod. This apparently measured how deep her cunt was. He withdrew the rod, and then aimed it at her anus. Despite the captive's tearful gagged pleas, he inserted it into her, causing her to buck her head up. He pushed it in until it stopped, and he called out the measurement. All the measurements were duly recorded by the guard behind this desk.

The woman was next led to the last desk. Here, the fourth guard was now busy printing out something from a printer. Catwoman glanced down and could see that it was a series of stickers, with barcodes on them. He peeled off one of the bar-coded sticker, and pasted it on a plastic disk. He then placed the disk on a flat plastic panel, until there was a beep sound.

"Radio Frequency Identification Disk." Catwoman's slaver explained helpfully next to her as he observed the process.

The guard leading the Asian girl picked up the disk. It had a small snap-hook on one end, which he now attached to the D-ring in front of her collar.

"The first slave is now processed." Catwoman's slaver informed her, "Very efficient, don't you think?"

Catwoman could only moan softly into her gag in defiance.

One by one, the other women were processed in the same way as the first woman. After they were processed, they were lined up against the far wall, facing out, so that they could observe the others being put through the same procedure. They were ordered to stand with their feet placed wide apart, so that their cunt would be open to any of the guard who wished to paw them. Any sign of defiance was met with admonishments using the cattle prods.

The African athlete was the last one, and she at least tried to put up a show of resistance, but all too futile as she was held firmly by two burly guards, and put through the same humiliating procedure. Then, to punish her insolence, she was led next to Catwoman. A crotch rope was tied around her waist and groin, and she too was suspended from the ceiling, and whipped by the riding crop until she was sobbing.

"Now for this one." Catwoman's slaver said, looking at her. Guards lifted her off the hook, and it was fished out from under the lines binding her breasts. She was now led to the middle of the hall. The handcuffs binding her wrists were released and her wrists now pulled forward. Like the other women, her wrists were now crossed with her palms facing forward under the fingerless gloves encasing them, and they were bound together with a broad leather strap. When they were secured, the ropes that had been binding her for so long were now untied, and allowed to drop to the floor around her.

Even without the lines that had been binding her, Catwoman was in no position to resist, with her wrists bound together before her, her fingers trapped inside the gloves, and her feet still imprisoned in the cruel high-heels. Yet she tried. She pulled and bucked at the men holding her, until a cattle prod was applied to her. When that did not stop her from resisting, the prod was applied again and again, eliciting gagged cries of pain until her legs gave way, and she slumped down in the arms of her captors. Then she resisted no more as her wrists were pulled behind her back and hooked into place.

"You really are a wild one." Catwoman's slaver said, leering at her, glancing down at her naked breasts, which still had the red imprints of the lines that had bound them. He pulled up on her leash, forcing her to rise unsteadily to her feet.

"By right, you should be stripped completely naked." her slaver said, coming up to her, "But I want to break you as the infamous Catwoman, not as an ordinary woman. I'll keep that cowl on you for the time being, but the rest of your costume will have to go."

Saying that, the man took out a knife with a concave blade. He fed the blade under the fabric that remained between her breasts, and slashed sideways, severely the remnant of the purple lycra. The strap fell forward onto her stomach, barely her chest. Then he turned the blade and cut upwards until he reached her collar bones, parting the costume like curtains to either side of her chest. Pulling on the costume here and there to steady the fabric, he cut side ways around the right side of her neck, slicing through the lycra until he had reached the zipper of the costume, which he severed. He walked around to the other side, and continued cutting the fabric until he had cut clean around her throat, separating the cowl from the rest of the costume.

The man now pull on the fabric under Catwoman's right armpit, and cut upwards with his blade. The purple lycra parted ways up her right arm towards the elbow. When he reached the hem of the glove cladding her right arm, he pulled down the fabric as he continued to cut until the entire sleeve had been cut through. The purple fabric fell away from her right shoulder and across her back. When the man repeated the process with the left sleeve, the fabric fell back away from her naked torso to gather around her waist.

The man now cut down the right side of Catwoman's hip, cutting the fabric over the hip down to her thigh. He fished the fabric out of the top of her right boot until he had cut all the way through the legging, and the lycra gathered around her left leg, revealing her naked crotch, still criss-crossed with the red welts from her recent whipping and where the crotch rope had bitten into her soft flesh. When he cut away the left legging as well, Catwoman stood naked in the arms of her captors, with only her cowl still remaining, cladding her head.

Catwoman was then unceremoniously put through the same procedures as the other women. She was obviously a very shapely woman, and the measurements only proved that. She had to be wrestled into a bent over position for her probe. As the cool acrylic rod penetrated her cunt, and then her ass, she could only dip her head in humiliation at being measured in her lower tracts.

"My, you are a deep one," Catwoman's slaver mocked as he saw the measurement on the rod, "You should be able to take our largest dildos in your vagina and anus."

Then, still struggling, Catwoman was dragged to the last station. One of the guards took the disk that had been prepared for her, and stepped forward towards her collar.

"No, I have something else in mind." Catwoman's slaver said, "Bring me the hole puncher."

The command brought a chill to Catwoman's spine. She turned to see a tray being carried by a guard up to her. As she struggled, a guard held her torso steady while another two knelt down and pulled her long legs apart, so that her crotch was uncovered. Her slaver took a gauze soaked in alcohol, and knelt down between her legs. She felt a cold sting as the alcohol was rubbed against her clitoris hood, then a numbess.

"MMMMMMMMMPH!" Catwoman protested, as she tried to wriggle her hips.

"You better be still, if you don't want me to accidentally punch a hole in your clitoris." the man admonished as he picked up the hole-puncher on the tray and bent down again. Catwoman instantly stilled her struggles. There was a sharp snap, and the man stood up and placed the puncher on the tray, and took out a ring. The ring was about two inches in diameter, hinged at one end, and could be opened at the opposite end. He opened it, and bent down. She could feel nothing, but knew that he was now threading the ring through the holes he had punched in her clitoris hood. She heard the ring being snapped shut underneath her. Then the man reached up for the black plastic disk containing the barcode and RFID chip, and attached it to clitoris ring he had newly installed on her. When her legs were released and she was allowed to bring them together, she felt the disk dangle between her legs as she was led to the row of captive women.

With the Amazon still being punished, Catwoman was now head of the line. A guard came up to her and attached a double-ended leash to her collar. One end was hooked to the collar while the other was pulled to the captive next to her. The guard worked his way down the line until all the women were linked together. Then, picking up the original leash still attached to Catwoman's collar, he pulled her towards the door near where she stood. She reluctantly followed him, feeling the drag on the other leash as the women behind her began to turn and walk out.

Catwoman saw that the door led to a large warehouse space. It had bare concrete floor, and walls and ceilings made from zinc sheets. Here, she was shocked again, as her eyes laid on rows of cages, constructed out of chicken wire and wooden frames. These were placed in rows on the floor. Many of them were occupied by women, bound as she and her fellow captives were, with their arms on either side of their heads. They were all severely ball-gagged. The size of the cages were such that they could not stand up, so they had to kneel or sit on the floor, looking in despair out at the new arrivals.

Catwoman was led towards a cage, placed aside from the others. It was placed at a spot where all the other captives in their cages could see. Not only that, as she was led up to the cage, she saw that cameras had been mounted on tripods around the cages, peering in. Several old television sets had also been placed next to the cages, showing what the cameras were capturing.

The door of the cage – a wooden frame hinged on the frame of the cage, with chicken wire stapled over it – was open. The top of the cage reached her hips. She was unhooked from the others, and the guards pushed her towards the open door. She thought of resisting yet again, but the sharp bite of the cattle prod was again used to dissuade her. She knelt down on the concrete floor and crawled on her chins into the cage, her breasts swinging beneath her as she crawled. She found that the floor of the cage was made from rough wooden planks. The door was swung shut behind her, and she heard a lock snap into place.

Catwoman looked around her new prison. There was nothing much to see. It was just tall enough for her to sit up straight on her knees, and about six feet long, and four feet across. Towards the other end of the cage, she saw that the chicken wire didn't quite come down all the way to the floor, but left a low gap, through which a large plastic tray had been slid in. This tray was covered with kitty litter. It didn't take much imagination to figure out that this was her toilet.

Worse, it was clear that every moment of Catwoman's captivity in the cage would be caught on camera. As she peered out of the chicken wire walls of her cages, on both sides, she could see herself in the cage, being displayed on the TV sets next to the cages.

Catwoman almost could not recognize herself. She saw a pitiful visage on displays, her body mostly naked except for the boots, gloves and cowl. Even her cowl now, once a proud symbol of her identity as the fiercely independent and unconquerable Catwoman, now only served to mark her out as a unique catch, a special conquest, for her slaver. For the other women, at least, they would soon sink into the anonymity of being another sex slave. For her, as long as she wore her cowl, she would be have a distinctive identity, that of being a powerful feline female being reduced to nothing more than a caged pussy.

The way Catwoman saw herself being put on display filled her with even more humiliation. Her breasts were thrust wantonly forward, given the way she was bound, with her arms raised. The red welts on them, as well as the red marks of the ropes that had bound her body so tightly over the past days, reminded her of her abused status as a hapless captive of the man, to be tormented whenever he saw fit.

Catwoman turned around to witness the other women captives being led to their respective cages and locked up. Finally, the Amazon was led into the warehouse. She was led to a cage at the end of the row, near to where Catwoman was imprisoned. Instead of being placed in the cage, she was bent over it, with her legs spread wide open and her ankles tied to the frame of the cage. Her collar was then tied to the far end of the top of the cage, leaving her in the bent over position.

"Punishment for disobedience." Catwoman's slaver said. He was standing next to her, obviously enjoying the spectacle. He looked through the chicken wire at her bound form, a look of triumph at her captivity and humiliation. Then, as Catwoman watched helplessly, the guards began to line up behind the Amazon woman, who was weeping audibly now, waiting to be raped.

For the next few days, Catwoman, like the other captives, were kept in her cage. There was nothing for her to do, except to peer out at her fellow captives, and witness the various atrocities inflicted upon them. The African woman was horribly used by the guards, being kept in her bent over position for almost a day before she was finally released and placed in the cage that she had been raped repeatedly on.

The captives, were fed from feeding bowls slid underneath the door of their cages. Food for them consisted of some unknown stew that was foul-smelling, but at least satiated the hunger. They had to drink from water bowls as well, bending forward with their butts raised into the air as they dipped their jaws into the bowls to lap up the water with their tongues. They could not feed or drink with the ball-gags in their mouths, of course, so they had to wait for the guards to reach in through the gap over the door to pull the rubber balls out of their mouths. The balls were then allowed to dangle from their straps around their necks, like embarrassing necklaces around their throats.

However, Catwoman was not to enjoy the privileged treatment of simple slavery such as those accorded to the other women. Apparently, her slaver had something special reserved for her.

Catwoman had not been fed or watered since her second capture in her own home. It must have been almost two days now. Given the ordeal that she had endured, she was now both hungry and thirsty. Yet, even as the other captives were fed, she was very conspicuously not given any food or water, not even in the degrading way the others were given. She could only watch helplessly as her own hunger and thirst were not satiated.

Then, hours later, her slaver had finally made an appearance, proffering a bowl of milk.

"Would you like some milk, slave?" the man had asked, putting especial emphasis on the last word. Catwoman had recoiled at this word, and defiance flared in her heart. She had looked out with hatred and contempt.

"I guess not." the man had said, completely unmoved by the evil stare he received from the purple cowled figure in the cage. He turned the bowl and emptied the milk onto the head of the woman. Almost reflexively, she started to move her lips around the ball-gag in her mouth, trying to suck in the milk as it flowed past her mouth. The man laughed at this, and realizing what a humiliating spectacle she was making of herself, Catwoman stopped and hung her head in shame. Glancing aside at her own images in the TV sets around her, she saw only a desperate and forlorn figure staring back at her.

The man had waited until the end of the day to return. By then, Catwoman had been further weakened by hunger and thirst. She was laying on her side by then, and as he approached, she weakly lifted up her torso to look at him.

"Milk, slave?" the slaver asked. Catwoman had stared at him. Part of her wanted to resist, but her hunger and thirst was almost overwhelming at this point. Almost subconsciously, she had nodded in defeat, then hung her head as she understood that.

The man knelt down and unlocked the cage. He reached in and grabbed Catwoman's leash, and pulled hard. She choked and crawled weakly with her legs to relieve the pressure around her throat, until she was part way out of the cage. The man grabbed the strap holding the rubber ball in her mouth and pulled the ball out of her dry mouth.

"Slaves can only feed after they've worked." the man said, "This will apply to you too."

As the man spoke, still holding onto Catwoman's leash, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and lowered his trousers, and then his briefs. His penis was already erecting, pointing towards the captive's face.

"You will only eat after you're serviced your Master with your mouth." the man had said.

Catwoman had once again recoiled at this. To be make a helpless fuck toy, bound and gagged such that she could not resist being raped was one thing. To be forced to serve the man, give him a blow job 'willingly' was another.

"N…never!" Catwoman had replied hoarsely but reluctantly. The man had smiled. He had known that time was on his side. He had then replaced the ball-gag in Catwoman's mouth, and shoved her back into her cage, shutting the door. Then, cruelly, he had left the bowl of milk just outside the door, near enough for her to see and smell, but just out of reach.

Finally, on the third time, Catwoman's resistance had completely crumbled. Her bodily needs had been too great by this. The man had returned, once again with a bowl of milk, and once again, he had dragged her by her leash out of her crude cage. She could not even summon the strength to fix him with a stare of hatred. Her eyes, peering out through the eyeholes of her purple Catwoman cowl, were unfocused, but she had understood what was demanded of her. She had almost automatically assumed a kneeling position, sitting on her heels, with her arms bound in the upraised position. The man hooked a finger under the strap of her ball-gag and pulled it out of her mouth. The man pulled down his jeans and she had reached forward to encompass the growing fleshy member in her mouth. The man had grabbed her by her jaws, holding her cheeks in a vice-like grip, forcing her mouth into a pout, as he forced his penis into her mouth. This both formed her mouth into a good shape to give him a blow-job and prevented her from making any foolish move to bite his manhood off.

Catwoman had worked her head back and forth over the man's penis. She had done this before in her days as a prostitute, and she called on her old skills to give the man a good fellatio. Then, as the man ejaculated into her mouth, she had reflexively swallowed the man's juice. Finally, the man placed the bowl on the floor, and she was allowed to lower herself to feed from the bowl.

The entire episode was, of course, captured on camera. The man took great pleasure later in playing back Catwoman's humiliation for her on the TV sets. She could not avoid seeing herself sucking the man's cock, her purple-cowled head bobbing back and forth on the fleshy shaft, as the TV sets on both sides of her cage showed it. She could only watch helplessly as she saw what a spectacle her bound form made.

After forcing her submission that time, this became part of the routine. Unlike the other women, Catwoman was required to perform some service every time she was fed. And she had to do it in public, witnessed by her fellow captives and the cameras surrounding her cage.

Catwoman must either give whoever was feeding her a blow-job, or, if so required, she would have to turn herself around, lift her buttock high into the air, place her shoulders onto the ground with her face down such that her cunt was available for fucking. Then, she must cooperate in her own rape by working her hips back and forth, giving whoever was feeding her a good fuck. Only then, was she allowed to feed.

Other than milk, her slaver had taken especial pleasure in feeding her cat food rather than human food. The first time he did it, he had opened up the cans of cat food right in front of her, in view of the other captives, and dumping the greasy contents into the feeding bowl.

After a while, like the other women, Catwoman had to defecate and urinate. There was no privacy as they do their business. But for Catwoman, there was the added humiliation of having her own act caught on camera. She was reluctant at first to do it so openly. But, eventually, she could no longer hold the urine and shit inside of her. She crawled to the tray of kitty litter and squat over it. Even as her cheeks burnt with humiliation, she urinated and shitted onto the dry litter. To make matters worse, when the guards came round to clear the kitty litter, they had ordered her to raise her buttocks up into the air, and they had sprayed a powerful jet of cold water into the cage, onto her cunt, blasting any debris off. She had no choice but to cooperate for otherwise, she would not be cleaned at all.

After almost a week of this treatment in the cage, Catwoman had been reduced from a captive resisting her enslavement to one who was resigned to a reluctant cooperation in her own captivity. Her existence was reduced to a humdrum one, consisting of eating, sleeping, relieving herself, and getting fucked for food.

Catwoman began to lose count of the number of days she had been captured and kept in captivity. She had tried initially to count off, but by the fifth day, her mind was becoming too exhausted by a combination of tedium, poor diet, and mental abuse, to perform even this simple task of noting the passage of time. It was all she could do to keep shreds of clear thought together in her mind. In the increasingly rare moments when she could string two thoughts together, she did wonder if the food they were feeding her was somehow drugged, which would explain her difficulties in focusing, and - to her surprise and embarrassment - an increased horniness.

Indeed, Catwoman found that she was starting to juice every time her captors started to bring food around. She could not understand this. She was horrified in fact by how her body was responding each time her slaver, or one of his minions, came around with milk or cat food. Her nipples and clitoris began to engorge even without the men pawing her, which they did anyway for their own amusement. In fact, she found herself becoming an increasingly willing participant in her own debasement, fucking the men's cocks with almost nymphomaniac enthusiasm during her feeding session.

Catwoman was beginning to accumulate quite a bit of grime from her captivity, of course, so she needed a good wash now and then. This was done in as humiliating a manner as possible. The first time she was washed, her slaver had come and opened the cage. Then, with a hook mounted on the tip of a wooden pole, he had reached in and caught her clitoris ring. Then, without mercy, he had withdrawn the pole out of the cage, causing her much distress in her nether region. She had to crawl outwards on her knees, an awkward proposition with her arms raised high above her head, which caused her breasts to swing from side to side at the same time. Every moment of this mortifying scene was captured for her viewing later on the cameras.

"Stand up, slave!" the man had commanded, and Catwoman had no choice to obey when he pulled the pole upwards, manipulating her from the other end of the six foot pole. She rose unsteadily onto her feet, her prolonged stay in the cage having rendered her alien to standing on the killer heels.

Backing away, the man had led Catwoman, step by painful step, stumbling and tottering, pass the other caged women towards the other end of the warehouse of torment. Here, a crude washing arrangement had been set up. A short pipe had been planted crudely in the cement of the floor, with a tap fitted to its tip. In turn, a long coil of rubber hose, with a spray nozzle had been fitted to it. A long, thin and rusty chain had been secured around the base of the pipe, with a snap-hook shackled to the other end. As her slaver led her to the pipe, he picked up the snap-hook, and secured it to the ring fitted to her clitoris hood, before releasing the hook of his pole from her clit ring. Then he picked up the spray nozzle from the floor, and still standing a distance from her.

The cold and powerful jet of water hit Catwoman like a punch. She squirmed and screamed into her gag involuntarily as the water was played up and down her stained body. He concentrated especially on her breasts and crotch, taking pleasure in assaulting it with the power stream of water. She tried to back away from the assault. She could do so for a few feet, twisting her body and tottering back to defend her vulnerable regions from the water. But as she did so, the chain she was secured to began to play out and straighten. Then, it rose off the floor and brought her up short with a tug of her clitoris ring. This caused her to scream into her gag again, and stop. At this point, she had no defense against the jet of water, and could only turn this way and that to give some parts of her body at least some moments of respite.

Catwoman's torn purple lycra cowl had become completely soaked against her head, deepening in colour as it became soggy wet. Water flowed down her body and entered the tall tops of her boots, flooding the insides. As she stumbled around, water kept being pumped out of the top of the boots as her long legs moved within them.

"That should do." her slaver had said, "Now to get you dry."

Using the hooked pole, the slaver gained control of Catwoman's clitoris ring again. Then he reached forward and unhooked the chain from the ring. Having done that, he led her by the pole again towards the nearest wall. Here, an iron bar had been suspended by its middle by chain from a hoist in the ceiling. The bar had been lowered almost to the floor, suspending just a few inches from the floor, resting on the pair of manacles fitted to its two ends.

"Sit!" Catwoman's slaver had ordered, pointing to the bar. She did not need to be told more. She sat down on her wet rump and spread her legs, placing one ankle next to each of the manacle. As she did so, water flowed out of her boots onto the cement floor. Her slaver walked around her, still holding the pole. He gave it a light tug, which caused her to wince in pain.

"Move your ankles closer!" the slaver roared. Catwoman moved hastily to obey. Then, within a few moments, he had secured her ankles with the steel bands, ratcheting them shut with their internal locks. He then stepped back and unhooked his pole before he reached for a set of controls mounted on the wall. He pressed a button, and the hoist high above her began to whine. The chain suspending the bar began to retract, raising the bar up into the air.

Catwoman's rump had been first raised into the air, before she was flipped onto her back. Then as the chain continued to retract, her back was lifted clear off. Finally, she was lifted completely off the ground. The man stopped the hoist only when her head was lifted several feet off the ground. When he stepped up to her, she found herself looking directly at his crotch. Water continued to flow out of her boots, trickling down her body, past her heavy breasts, which now hung inverted as well from her chests, exposing their undersides, which, up to now, remained relatively unmarked by abuse.

Catwoman had been left hanging by her ankles, with her legs spread wide open by the bar for a while, but her slaver did not leave her alone for long. When he returned, he was holding a familiar object that sent a chill down his slave's spine. It was a cat-o-nine-tails. It was made out of braided leather, with its nine tentacles ending in sharp leather points. He had flicked it experimentally in the air for effect as he approached the feline burglar.

Then Catwoman's slaver had struck. He swung the braided leather tails heavily onto her crotch. Instantly, she bucked, twisting her torso around from the pain. She had screamed into her gag.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Catwoman's slaver, of course, did not let this deter him at all. Far from it. It only encouraged his lustful sadism as he had next aimed for her inverted breasts. He had struck with unrelenting force on her right breast.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPHHHHHHHHHH!" Catwoman screamed into her ball-gag again, her body arching back such that she looked onto the floor as she recoiled from the pain. Her spittle, drooling out of the corners of her mouth from her ball-gagged mouth, which had been flowing down her cheeks, flew into the air, splattering onto the floor.

Catwoman's slaver had waited until she returned to a vertical position, before delivering his next blow, punishing her left breast this time, aiming again for the pristine area unmarked by previous punishments. Again, Catwoman screamed and bucked from the pain of the blow.

Catwoman's slaver had stood up and walked around her. She had felt utterly helpless as she awaited the next blow. This one landed on her right buttock, causing her to arch her body forward this time. As she recoiled back to vertical, her wet breasts bounced against her body, juggling like jello before coming to a stop.

Catwoman's slaver had worked her over that time, alternating his attention on her crotch, her breasts and her buttocks until she was once again covered with fresh red welts. When he was exhausted, he had simply draped the instrument of her torment over her vulva, inserting its handle through her clitoris ring to prevent it from slipping off, before leaving her to dry out.

Catwoman had been released from her suspension only after several hours, by which time she was dry, with the exception of the deepest reaches of her boots. She was too weak to resist as the guards marched her back to her cage, once again using the hooked pole to control her through her clitoris ring. Once back in the cage, she had been forced to give one of the guards a blow-job while she was fucked in her cunt by another, before she was fed cat food once more, and then prodded back into her cage. As the cage door was locked behind her, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Catwoman's washing was now added to the regular ordeals she had to endure in her captivity. She would be washed daily, ostensibly to remove all the stench and dirt from her feeding and shitting, as well as the use of her mouth and cunt. But, it was obvious that these were also occasions for her to be punished by her slaver in full view of the other slaves and the guards, who would gather to watch the spectacle, adding to her humiliation at being reduced from a haughty cat burglar to nothing more than sexual entertainment for licentious men around her.

Aside from suspending Catwoman upside down, her slaver would sometimes alternate by suspending her from her elbows, so that she hung vertically, which allowed him to balance his whipping to the upper surfaces of her body, particularly her breasts, so that the gourds were filled evenly with red welts from her punishment. This was repeated on her buttocks, as well as her crotch and inner thighs. Each night, she could only fall into an exhausted sleep, weeping tears of futile anger and utter shame at her slavery.

"Get up, slave!"

Catwoman awoke with a start. She opened her eyes to look up from her fetal position on the floor of the cage at the owner of the voice. It was her slaver. He was holding the usual bowl of milk.

"Get up you lazy slut!" her slaver scolded. Catwoman quickly scrambled onto her knees. She did not want to anger the man. Helplessly bound and gagged as she was, she knew that she had no choice but to obey every command promptly. She knew what was expected of her, and when the cage door opened, she waddled out on her knees up to where the bowl had been placed. Then she looked up at him.

"Cunt." The man said curtly.

Catwoman understood, and bent down until her shoulders torched the floor. She spread her long legs behind her, putting her vulva on full display to the man, who was already pulling down his pants.

Catwoman was given a good fuck before the man pulled up his pants again. He reached forward and took the rubber ball out of her mouth, allowing her to feed hungrily from the bowl. Her ass waved in the air, while her breasts swung wildly beneath her as she attacked the bowl with gusto. When she was done, she raised herself back to a seated position on her knees, licking her milk stained lips with her tongue, which did not prevent milk from trickling down the sides of her jaws and neck, down her chest to her breasts. The man replaced her ball-gag at this point, imposing silence on her once more.

"Get up on your feet." the man ordered now. Catwoman did as she was told, getting unsteadily onto her feet. The man took up the hooked pole once more and fished the ring between her legs. Then he led her away from her cage.

To Catwoman's surprise, he did not lead her to the usual area where she was washed. Instead, he turned and led her by her clitoris hood out of the warehouse through a door to an adjoining room.

Catwoman had never been brought to this room before, and she looked at it with some curiosity. The design of the room reminded her of a garage. A closed garage door dominated one end of the room, but looked as if it had not been used for some time. In the centre of the room was a large pit, where car mechanics could crawl down to look at the undercarriages of cars. But instead of the jacks normally used to lift up cars, she saw two sets of long rubber treadmills had been set up, running across the pit. There was no usual handles or controls found on gym treadmills. These only had the rubber treads, supported on rollers arranged one next to the other. The rollers were secured, in turn to iron frames running on either side of the treads.

Catwoman was now led up to the nearer treadmill.

"Get on, slave." the man ordered. Catwoman had no choice but to obey as the man began to pull at the pole, adding tension to her clitoris ring. She hesitated for a brief moment, before walking onto the tread. The rubber was surprisingly firm under her boots. She guessed that in addition to the rubber, there must have been tracks of some sort underneath to add rigidity to the surface. She walked awkwardly on her super high heels to the centre of the treads. Here, to her concern, she saw that a bundle of grey wires with grey plastic pads at their ends were suspended from the ceiling above her. Looking up, she saw that they disappeared into a hole in the ceiling.

Catwoman's slaver now unhooked his pole before walking to the front of the treadmill. He picked up a brass snap-hook attached to the end of a chain there, and came up to his captive, where he attached the hook to her clitoris ring. Then he picked up a roll of duct tape that had been left conveniently on the floor next to the treadmill at this point.

The purpose of the tape was soon clear. Catwoman's slaver tore off a short length of the tape. He stood up and grabbed one of the wires, and picked up the pad at its end. He examined it for a moment, then placed the pad on her right nipple, covering it neatly. He then pasted the length of tape he had torn out across the pad and the skin of her breast next to it to hold it in place. The man tore off another piece of tape, and repeated the process with her left nipple.

The man tore off a third piece, and picked up yet another pad. This time, he moved around her to her rear, and pasted the pad against the rear of her pert right rump. He then came forward, grabbed another pad, and applied this one to her left rump.

The man was not done yet. He knelt down, and took the remaining pad. This one, he placed between her legs, just behind her clitoris ring, to cover her clitoris and the front tip of her vagina lips. He used a long strip to hold this one in place, pasting across from her clitoris hood, back to her anus.

The man now stood up and looked at his handiwork. Catwoman, standing rigidly erect on the treadmill, was connected up like some sort of experimental subject. Her eyes looked concerned at this arrangement, which prompted a small smile to appear on his lips.

"You must be wondering what all this is for," the man said, "All that feeding and sleeping is going to make you fat, so you will need to be exercised regularly to make sure that your lovely figure is maintained."

As the man spoke, all Catwoman could do was to stare ahead. A large mirror had been set up against the wall there, and she could see herself standing on the treadmill through the mirror. She thought she looked pathetic, with red welts all over her breasts, and with her purple cowl looking rugged and worn on her head.

"You, of course, can guess the consequences of falling behind the speed of the treadmill." the man said, pointing down at the chain connecting Catwoman's clitoris ring to the front of the treadmill, "But the purpose of these pads will be revealed only after your exercise session starts."

The man now walked to the front of the room, with Catwoman following him with her eyes. She knew that he would not be merciful, and it was with some apprehension as she watch him walk up to a set of controls mounted on a corner of the room. He threw a large electric switch with a flourish, and soon, the rubber treadmill began to move underneath her.

The speed was slow enough initially, such that Catwoman did not have much trouble keeping up with it, taking one difficult step after another in her impractical footwear. The six-inch high heels and her tip-toe position soon imposed great strain on her calf muscles, however, and they soon began to ache. Still, she did not dare to fall behind, as the snap-hook secured to her clitoris ring began to drag on it. She continued to take step after step.

Looking ahead, Catwoman could see that the heels were imposing a particular gait on her. Her hips were swaying from side to side, in an exaggerated slut walk. She realized that this must have been part of the intent of the man, forcing her to walk in this way, to add to her humiliation, but there was nothing she could do.

"Keep up!" Catwoman's slaver shouted.

Then, before Catwoman knew what happened, she felt a sharp bite on her right rump, almost as if a whip had hit her. She looked around, confused, but the man was still standing next to the controls. Then, she felt herself whipped on the left rump again, and gave an involuntary cry.

"MMMMPH!" Catwoman complained into her gag. Then, she felt a bite on her right nipple, and realization dawned on her. She was being 'whipped' by electricity through the pads attached to her body. The next bite was on her left nipple. The next one, she knew would be on her clitoris.

When it came, it seemed to be much worse than the other four. Perhaps that region was simply more sensitive. However, it felt as bad as if she had actually been whipped there, an experience the man had imposed on her so many times since her capture. Catwoman could only throw her head back and let out yet another gagged scream.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPHHHHHHHHH!"

Catwoman hurried to speed up her steps. But the man had increased the speed, forcing her to speed up even more. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that her hips were swaying in a more and more exaggerated fashion. Her breasts were now bouncing lightly before her chest. Beads of perspiration began to appear on her body.

"Faster!" the man ordered, cranking up the treadmill up a notch.

Catwoman groaned inwardly as she felt the rubber tracks beneath her moved faster. She fell momentarily behind, and immediately, she was shocked in her nipples, bums and cunt. She let out another gagged scream, and increased her steps, trying to catch up. She slipped back again, and was once more punished in her sensitive regions.

Catwoman had no choice but to break out into a jog. It was almost impossible in the high-heels imposed on her. She was almost stomping her booted feet forward. Her breasts juggled violently before her as perspiration was not pouring out of her body, trickling down her body, covering her breasts and buttocks enticingly with glistening beads. Her buttocks swayed from side to side as her wide hips rocked with each of her movement. Her calf muscles were aflamed now, and she was beginning to tire out. Her captivity had taken a toll on her previously phenomenal stamina.

The inevitable happened. Catwoman lost her balance, and with a gagged scream of despair, she fell forward onto the mill. She thought for sure that the clitoris ring would now tear through her clitoris hood, but the front of the chain gave way instead as she landed on her front, as the pads were ripped from her body. Nonetheless, the hook imparted a vicious tug on her clit ring as a final torment as the treadmill came to a sudden halt with Catwoman slumped, exhausted, at the end, having been transported there by the slowing rubber tracks.

"Lazy whore!" the man swore at her, but quietly, he was smiling. She had endured far longer than any woman he had placed on the treadmill. This even after a week of mistreatment. He knew that he had captured a very good specimen indeed. He could not wait until he finally broke her and made her his slave. In the meantime, he knew that he was going to enjoy the process.

Catwoman could not retort, but could only glance up tiredly at her slaver as he came around to her. She just felt so drained of energy, and her feet were killing her.

"You will be punished for your laziness." the man said solemnly. He picked up a pile of coiled rope and came over to where Catwoman lay. He dropped the ropes next to her sinuous supine form, with her buttocks rising proudly up from the valley of her svelte back and hips. He picked up one of the ropes and uncoiled it, before doubling it. He knelt down and folded up Catwoman's long left leg until her heel was pressed against her upper thigh. He then lashed the rope around her ankle and thigh, pressing them tightly together, before cross-lashing the rope around the first horizontal lines and tying a knot to secure the rope in place. This left her left leg tied up in the folded position. He took another rope and repeated this with her right leg.

The man now pulled Catwoman, unresisting in her stupor, up onto her knees. He took one of the rope, and used it to lash her left wrist down to her left upper arm. This secured her arm in a folded position in the same way her legs were already bound. He took the fourth coil of rope and did the same with her right arm. All four of her limbs were now bound in a folded position.

Once Catwoman's arms were secured in this way, the man bent down and unhooked her bound wrists from her collar, then unbuckled the strap that had bound them together. For the first time in a while, Catwoman could lower her arms forward, although, of course, she could not straighten them, given the way she was bound.

The man now took a fifth rope and hitched it to the D-ring on Catwoman's collar. He pulled on it, and forced her to drop her body forward again until she came to rest on her elbows. Then, pulling again, she was forced to mount her knee-caps such that she was standing on her elbows and knees, her body arched forward, her butt pointing upwards, with her breasts swaying freely beneath her.

The man gave Catwoman's rope leash another tug, and she was forced to follow him as he walked back into the warehouse, crawling on her elbows and knees. It was a difficult task, particularly for her already exhausted body. Soon, her elbows and knees were in pain, but she whimpered into her ball-gag. The man ignored her, and continued to lead her through the warehouse, past the other women and the guards, before turning and walking through another door.

Catwoman could only glance up to see what was in the room that she had been led into. She found herself in a small cafeteria, where the guards ate. There were several long tables, with benches on either sides of the tables, for them to sit. There were several guards there, seated around, taking their own breakfast. They very quickly noticed the naked Catwoman being led amongst their midst, her buttock swaying behind her, her breasts bouncing from her awkward crawl on the floor.

The man led Catwoman to the centre of the room, and then dropped the leash rope on the floor.

"This is your punishment, slave." the man sentenced, "You will amuse my men here, to be used as they see fit."

Glancing up, Catwoman saw the predatory looks in the faces of the men, and she could only hang her head back in shame. There was nothing she could do as the men came up to her, flipped her flat onto her back, and began to unbuckle their pants. Soon, the first man entered her defenseless cunt.

"MMMMMMMMMPPHHHHHH!" was all Catwoman could say to protest.

Catwoman had been raped repeatedly for hours, as guard after guard took her. After those in the cafeteria when she first went in tire out, new ones coming off duty took their turn and used her. They made use of her not only in her cunt, but also by squeezing her big breasts together to knead their own penis, or by forcing her to give them a blowjob, even as she was being fucked in the cunt. By the time the man returned, she was covered with dried semen and cum. She was almost happy to see him.

"So, will you be an obedient slave from now on?" the man asked mockingly as he looked down at Catwoman, pinned to the floor by two guards. She nodded enthusiastically in her desperation.

"Good. Get on all fours!" the man ordered as the guards released her arms. Catwoman twisted her body around as quickly as she could until she was once more standing on her elbows and knees. The man then stooped to pick up the rope leash. He gave it firm tug, and led her back into the warehouse again. She was led up to where the tap was. He connected up the hooked chain to her clitoris ring once more, and used the water spray to clean the dried juices off of her. She had no choice but to stand on her elbows and knees to allow the man to play the jet all over her body, from her swinging breasts to her exposed cunt behind her. When she was clean, he led her straight back to her cage without bothering to hang her out to dry. He did not untie her either, but led her crawling back to her cage. After crawling into the cage and circling it a bit, she settled down as best as she could in her new bound position, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning, her training session was repeated. Catwoman was once more led out of her cage into the garage. Her legs were untied so that she could unfold them, but the man left her arms bound in their folded position. As she mounted the treadmill, she looked at herself, with her bound arms now allowed to be lowered against her sides, pressing her heavy breasts together before her. Her elbows and knees were still blackened from the dirt on the floor that she had to crawl around on.

Once more, the man connected Catwoman up to the hooked chain and the electric pads, except that there was more this morning. Aside from the pads taped to her nipples, the apex of her buttocks, and her clitoris, the man pasted two more to each breasts, on the top and bottom. The buttocks also earned more pads, with two more attached to each rounded muscle, on top and below of the first. Then, more pads were pasted to the inside and outside of her thighs.

Catwoman did slightly better on that second day. She managed to keep up with even the higher speed, which allowed her to jog awkwardly on her high heels. Of course, she was encouraged on her endeavors by the sharp bites of electricity tormenting her all over her breasts, her buttocks, her clitoris and her thighs. She felt as if she was being whipped all over her body. All she could do was grunt and bear it.

As on the day before, Catwoman's body was soon soaked with her own perspiration. She lasted a little longer, but her body would inevitably tire out. Again, she fell ignominiously flat onto her stomach.

Catwoman's slaver came over to her, and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"What am I to do with you, you lazy slut." the man asked rhetorically. Catwoman could only sob as her legs were once again frog-tied, and she was led into the cafeteria to be used by the guards. Then, she was washed, fed and watered, and returned to the cage again.

This training regime lasted for the next few days. As time passed, Catwoman became better and better at walking and running on the ridiculous high-heels imposed on her, until she could actually balance quite well and move at quite a good speed in the boots.

One day, when the man came to fetch Catwoman again, he added a new wrinkle to her training. He led her to a corner of the warehouse where a set of long black rubber objects hung by hooks along the wall. As she was led close to them, she realized that they were dildos and anal plugs, all arranged by their sizes, from the shortest and thinnest to really engorged ones that had no realistic correspondence to actual human male anatomy. She realized what the man was going to do, and she cringed inwardly. He must have sensed her reluctance, for he gave her rope leash a firm tug to force her to crawl faster forward.

The man stepped up to the two rows of rubber objects. He looked at the top row first, which were the rubber dildos, sleek and long, glistening from repeated use. They were held in place in a row by circular steel brackets supporting their flanged bases. He selected one near the end, lifting it out of its bracket, hefting it to sense its weight. He turned to look down at Catwoman.

"This one?" The man asked.

Catwoman's eyes opened wide. It looked too large for any woman to handle. She shook her head vigorously, and shuddered to think how wide it would stretch her insides.

"Ah." the man pondered, returning the dildo to its hook, "Too small. Maybe this one."

"MMMMMMMPPHHHH!" Catwoman complained in alarm as he took the one that was one step up in size from the one he had held earlier. He smiled evily down at her as he took the dildo and picked up a squeeze tube of lubricant from a rack mounted on the wall next to the dildos. He popped the tube open and squeezed a generous amount of the transparent goo onto the rubber surface of the dildo. Replacing the tube in the rack, he rubbed the goo all over the rubber surface of the dildo. He walked around Catwoman on her elbows and knees. She shook her purple cowled head, pleading silently with him not to do it, but he ignored her. He squatted down behind her upraised butt, and aimed the blunt tip of the dildo at her vagina lips.

Catwoman felt the slippery tip of the dildo touch her vagina entrance, and shuddered involuntarily. Then, she moaned into her gag as the blunt tip entered her tunnel. It began to stretch the inner wall, causing her to throw back her head in despair at the sensation. As the monster continued to advance into her, she dropped her head back onto her chin and shook it, in a futile attempt to divert herself from the relentless advance of the monster.

"MMMMMMPH! MMMMMPH!" Catwoman pleaded. The man ignored her, and continued to push the dildo in.

"Hold your butt steady, slut!" The man ordered as Catwoman shook her hips. He slapped her right buttock savagely, causing her to buck.

"If you don't cooperate, I'll use a bigger one." the man threatened. Catwoman stopped her wriggling at once, and only moan into her gag as the man completed the insertion of the dildo in her, leaving only the knurled cap at the end of the shank outside the lips of her vulva.

The man now stood up and went over to the row of anal plugs, lined up underneath the dildos. They seemed to have been arranged in sizes corresponding to the dildos above them. He took the one under the gap left vacant by the dildo now residing within Catwoman's vagina. He applied a big helping of lubricant on the pointed rubber tip of the cone of the butt. He let it stand in his hand to let the goo slid down the cone to the flanged base of the plug. Replacing the tube on its rack, he rubbed the goo all over the cone and came around to Catwoman's rear.

Catwoman looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. Her propped open mouth continued to drool, dripping saliva onto the floor below her. Her slaver, of course, ignored her and knelt down behind her. Soon, she felt the tip of the cone being applied to the puckered mouth of her anus. She screwed her eyes shut at what she knew was coming next, as the point parted her sphincter and entered her.

As the cone advanced into her, its girth grew steadily. A shock shot up Catwoman's spine as the sphincter reached its elastic limit. She threw back her head once more at the pain. Her slaver eased off a little bit for a while, then renewed the advance of the cone, stretching her sphincter still further.

"MMMMMMMMPHHHHH!" Catwoman moaned into her ball-gag, as another bout of pain shot up from her ass.

The man eased off again, and let Catwoman rest for a couple of moments, then, with one firm shove, he pressed the plug in all the way until the sphincter closed over the flanged base, eliciting one final gagged moan from the enslaved feline bandit. She could only shake her head at the pain, panting and perspiring.

"Don't drop those now," the man warned, "Otherwise, I would just have to put in something bigger."

The man now took a piece of rope, already doubled, and belted the loop end around Catwoman's trim waist, just above her rounded hips. He fed the running ends through the loop under her stomach, drawing the lines tight to constrict it mercilessly around her torso, before pulling it forcefully back towards her crotch. He inserted the running ends through her clitoris ring, then made a knot in the lines just above her clitoris, before pulling the lines over the bases of the dildo and anal plug inserted in her lower orifices, before pulling the line sup between the cheeks of her buttocks, up the small of her back, to finally insert the running ends under the belt of rope around her waist. He pulled the lines back hard to tighten the lines over her crotch, before tying the lines in place. As the lines constricted over her crotch, the dildo and anal plug were pushed deeper into Catwoman, eliciting yet another gagged moan from the hapless captive. He still had several feet of free lines left, which he then knotted at one end, and allowed the lines to drop back down her crotch to dangle between her legs, forming a crude facsimile of a tail.

The man bent down to retrieve the rope leash again, and led Catwoman crawling out of the warehouse, back into the garage once more. He bent down and untied her legs, allowing her to unfold them.

"Stand up, slave." The man ordered. Catwoman got up unsteadily. The rubber dildo and plug felt large and heavy inside of her. She felt as if she wanted to go to the toilet, and her vagina wall was aching faintly from being stretched to such an unrealistic degree.

"Onto the treadmill, you lazy bitch." the man scolded. Catwoman turned and walked up onto the treadmill, up to the usual position, and waited while the man hooked her up in the usual manner. All the while, she could feel the dildo and plug pushing down against the crotch rope holding them in place. Their own weights alone would have sufficed to pull them out of her lubricated tracts if the lines had not held them in place. These attempted escape of the rubber monsters inside of her only added to her discomfort as their movements rubbed her vagina wall or stretched her sphincter uncomfortably.

The man threw the switch on the treadmill, and Catwoman began to pace on the mill. She found another difficulty created by the presence of the rubber toys inside of her. Their girths were so great that she had to spread her thighs somewhat so as not to jostle them. This made walking as she had become accustomed to in her high heels, placing one foot in front of the other, at an angle pointing diagonally out, was difficult. She had to use a more inelegant and manly walk, with her legs apart.

The discomfort only increased when the speed of the treadmill was increased. Try as Catwoman might, she could not keep from jostling the dildo and plug inside of her as she walked faster and faster. As she did so, the dildo and plug shoved in and out of her tracts. Adding to these irritations, the knot on the crotch rope over her clitoris was beginning to rub against her soft fleshy knob. As her training continued, she realized to her horror that she was becoming horny, as her clit was manipulated by the rope, and as the dildo and plug were shoved up and down her cunt and asshole.

"No!" Catwoman cursed in her heart, as she became more and more aroused. She began to pant, both from the exertion of the exercise regime, and from her increasing arousal. She knew she was beginning to juice when the dildo began to move even more freely in her love tunnel, which only increased her libido. Soon, she could feel the trickle of juice coming out of the wide opened mouth of her dildo to flow down the insides of her thighs.

"Faster!" Catwoman's slaver cried. She felt the first of the electric bites flare on her nipples. Under the electric pads, they were already engorged from her arousal. The shocks only seemed to make them even more sensitive, causing Catwoman to moan into her ball-gag.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmphhhh…"

The electric bites increased in number and intensity, shooting all over Catwoman's abused body, forcing her to walk faster and faster until she broke into a job. Of course, this only made things worse down below for her, as the dildo, the plug, and the crotch rope all assaulted her sensitive zones even more violently. She could feel an orgasm building inside of her even as she struggled to keep up with the speed of the machine.

The inevitable happened. Catwoman felt herself cum down below, as she threw her head back in the throes of an orgasm. The momentary loss of focus proved her undoing. She tripped and fell heavily onto her side, slipping off the treadmill into the pit. Thankfully, the chain hooked to her clitoris ring disconnected as she fell. The pit itself was lined with more rubber mats, which cushioned her fall. She landed on her back, her legs spread open, her vulva completely wet from her orgasm. She laid panting, with her eyes half closed.

The man stood over the pit for a moment, admiring the bound and gagged beauty in the pit. He was secretly delighted at the sight, particularly the horniness she had displayed when being placed in such a harsh bondage regime. She was giving him the most fun he had in years.

"What do you think you're doing?" the man scolded after a while, "Sleeping on the job? You will have to be punished!"

Catwoman could only shake her head weakly in protest, but it was no use. The man picked up the two pieces of rope that he had used to bind her legs previously, before climbing into the pit, grabbing her rope leash, and pulling her out of the pit. He led her, still wobbly from the exercise, from her orgasm and from the fall, back towards her cage. But instead of putting her back inside, he pulled her stomach against one of the edges across the top of the cage, and pulled her neck down towards the other edge. He tied her leash rope to the frame of the cage, leaving her bent over her cage. He then used the ropes that he had used to frog-tie her to bind her ankles to the two vertical posts of the frame on the side she was leaning against, binding her legs in a spread-open position. This, of course, left her crotch exposed for use.

The man pulled aside the lines of the crotch rope crossing over the base of the dildo and plug. He pulled the plug out unceremoniously, causing Catwoman to suck in a breath at the sensation. He placed the soiled plug on top of the cage, next to her bound body. Then he pulled out the long dildo, before letting the crotch lines nestle back over her vulva.

Catwoman twisted her head back in an effort to see what the man was doing. When she heard him unzip his pants, she guessed that she was about to be raped again. Then, she felt the hotness of the tip of his penis press against her anus, and her eyes widened.

Catwoman had been a prostitute before, and she certainly had been paid to be taken in her ass before. She never really liked it, because it hurt if the client did not do it gently. She knew that this man would not be gentle. On top of that, she was already used to being used as a fuck toy in her cunt, but this was the first time she was to be raped in her ass as well. This drove home cruelly the fact that she was nothing more than a sex slave now, to be used as the man saw fit, with no limits as to what they could do to her.

Catwoman looked ahead of her as she felt the man begin to penetrate her ass. She saw the TV display the scene from the cameras' point of view, of her bound body bent over the cage, and the man penetrating her from behind. Her head was still covered by her Catwoman purple cowl, but that mask had long lost its former significance as a symbol of her independence and skill. She realized that by letting her continue to wear her cowl, the man was merely driving home the point that she had been captured, bound, raped, and abused as the mighty Catwoman, not as the lowly human former prostitute Selina Kyle. Even her powerful alter ego had been defeated and brought low, just like any other women would, by the man. As the man's hot penis drove deep into her rectum, Catwoman felt the crushing weight of defeat and humiliation weigh on her heart, and tears trickled out of the corner of her eyes.

Catwoman had been left on the top of the cage for the rest of the day. Of course, the guards were allowed to make of her in her vulnerable state, in both her ass and her cunt. If there was any mercy shown to her, it was that her mouth continued to be gagged, sparing that orifice from abuse. Nonetheless, by evening, her cunt and asshole were heavily stained with semen and cum. Her asshole, especially, was a slack oval band, with white sludge flowing out of it.

Catwoman's slaver had returned.

"Have we learnt our lesson, slut?" the man demanded sternly. Catwoman could only nod, lowering her eyes automatically in capitulation. The man smiled at this. He walked around behind her, and shoved the dildo and anal plug back into her cunt and ass, securing them in place with the crotch rope. Then he released her from her bondage position over the cage, allowing her to slide down onto the floor. He flipped her onto her back, and proceeded to bound her legs in a frog-tied position, restoring her to her usual position. Then he put her back into her cage and fed her.

The man continued Catwoman's training for the next few days. Each time produced the same results, in terms of how horny she got, and how she orgased during her training. But prepared for this eventuality now, she was able to continue jogging even as she felt the throes of orgasm. She would merely moan and pant, but she continued.

The man now added more elements to her training.

"You are walking like a man, Catslut." the man scolded her, "You will have to learn to walk with your legs together."

Catwoman's slaver then imposed a hobble skirt on her. It was constructed out of thick rubber. It resembled a keystone in its shape, with a square top, and a wide base. This wide base was wrapped around her long thighs, covering them. When the series of buckled straps lining their sides were done up, from behind her knees up to her rump, they forced her knees together, forming her thighs into the shape of an inverted A. The top panel is then pulled over her groin, and the belt threaded through its top tightened around her narrow waist.

Catwoman found that the elegant posture of her legs imposed by the skirt forced the dildo and the plug further inside of her. It upped the level of discomfort just when she got used to walking with their presence inside of her lower orifices. She found that the skirt also imposed a particular way of walking on her, forcing her to place one arched foot directly in front of the other, landing almost on the outer side of her feet, in an elegant walk. This would force her hips to sway from side to side in an even more exaggerated manner, making her look very sexy indeed.

Catwoman again had some initial difficulty with the hobble skirt. Of course, she was punished again. This time, she was brought to the toilet used by the guards. She was placed in one of the stalls, on the toilet bowl, with her legs still frog-tied. They were then kept spread open by two ropes, one each being tied around her upper thighs under the crook formed by her folded legs. The other ends of the ropes were then tied to eyebolts screwed into the top of the walls of the stall, on either side of her, forcing her to not only spread her legs, but also raise her butt, exposing her cunt for use. Which the guards made liberal use of again. Catwoman could only endure her abuse as much as she could.

As always, Catwoman got better after a few days. She could now walked most elegantly with the hobble skirt imposed on her. That was when the man introduced the corset to her.

Catwoman had worn corsets before, of course. She did like to wear them, as they shaped her already beautiful body to an even more sexy hour-glass. She liked to use them especially in her dominatrix routines, wearing a strapless PVC version, together with PVC leggings.

The one the man produced was almost like this version, but was of black rubber, like the hobble skirt. Instead of lacings, the corset had sturdy steel snap-fasteners, which was absolutely necessary given the powerful elastic pull the rubber imposed. This corset was molded to resemble the shape of a classic corset with vertical bonings, but it did not contain actual bonings. This did not mean, however, that it was any easier to wear. The heavy was heavy and not very elastic, although it would stretch if sufficient force was applied to stretch it.

Human arms were not sufficient to do so, so the corset was initially spread open across a curved iron frame. The ends of the corsets had D-rings mounted on their tops and hems. These were hooked over studs on the four corners of the iron frame. The iron frame itself was hinged in the center, and could be closed, bringing its sides together, almost like a book. The curved nature of the frame formed a space between its curved arms to accommodate a person.

The frame was set up in a corner of the warehouse, and Catwoman had been brought up to the corseting machine. She was marched up against the stretched rubber corset, the top of which came up to the undersides of her breasts. Two semi-circular scoops on the top of the corset allowed her breasts to flow over the top of the corsets to rest against its rubbery surface. Then, with her arms raised, the arms were closed by a motor, bringing the ends of the corsets together behind her. Almost immediately, she felt the almost crushing squeeze of the rubber corset. She felt as if a giant hand had grabbed her by her waist, and applied a powerful constriction to it, rearranging her organs underneath, pushing up her breasts and pushing down her hips. The man had applied the powerful snap fasteners behind her, imprisoning her in the rubber prison, and preventing the corset from opening on its own. When she was released, she found that she could only breathe in small and quick breaths, which she had to do carefully, for otherwise she might hyperventilate.

Catwoman had been led to a standing mirror to examine herself. She must admit that the corset had imposed a formidable hour-glass figure on her. Her already trim waist seemed to have been reduced drastically, which only served to exaggerate the expanse of her breasts and the flare of her hips. The rubber of the corset had been rubbed with silicon to a glossy shine, which added only to its sexy glamour.

Catwoman had been placed back onto the treadmill. Again, she found it difficult at first, given how it was impossible for her to take in enough air to keep up the pace. She felt faint after a short while, and almost stumbled off the treadmill, but she gritted her teeth over her ball-gag, and somehow managed to continue.

The man, of course, was pleased. He had doubted the wisdom of this latest imposition. No other human woman would have been able to endure it. Catwoman, somehow, had managed to overcome the corset the first time she tried it. She was truly an exceptional specimen. It was definitely worth his while to break her to his will.

"Very good, Catslave." the man said, stopping the machine, bringing the rubber tracks to a slow halt. Catwoman came to a stop, panting, beads of perspirations covering her exposed flesh. Her purple cowl was dark with moisture as usual, and the man wrinkled his nose. It was beginning to smell, and much as he wanted to keep it on her, it clearly was time for it to go.

"Kneel." the man ordered. Catwoman climbed off the treadmill and slowly got onto her knees. It wasn't easy as she was still wearing the hobble-skirt that was part of her training. He now removed this garment and put it aside. Underneath, beads of perspiration covered her long shapely thighs.

"Forward onto your elbows, slut." the man ordered. Catwoman did as she was told, and bent forward until her elbows touched the floor. He knelt down and folded up her left leg, binding it in place, then did the same to her right leg, forcing her once again to stand on her elbows and knees. He grabbed her rope leash, and gave it a tug. He did not have to pull her along nowadays. She put up no resistance as he walked out of the garage, following him as best as she could, crawling on her elbows and knees.

The man led her out of the garage, then the warehouse, turning into a staircase Catwoman had never seen before. He led her up the steps of the staircase, being surprisingly patient with her as she had trouble negotiating the stairs, bound as she was. Somehow, she managed to negotiate the steps on her elbows and knees, finally emerging on the second floor. She found herself looking down a corridor with a row of doors down each side. To her, it looked rather like the cheap whorehouse that she had first started out in when she was a prostitute.

The man led Catwoman down the corridor to a door at the end. He opened it and led her into a room. For a moment, she blinked at the bright lights in the room, but when her eyes adjusted, she was surprised to find herself in a room that was white-tiled on all its walls and floor. The ceiling was also neatly painted, and fitted with white lights. Everything about the room was clean and sterile looking, in sharp contrast to the filth that she had been kept in since she was brought to this place.

And where was this place, precisely? Catwoman did not know. In fact, she was surprised she had not actually thought about this question. Her mind had been occupied almost exclusively by the torment that she had suffered at the hands of the man. She knew that she was in some sort of Third World country, and the guards as well as the people she had glimpsed during her road trip from the airfield seemed to indicate she was somewhere in South America. But beyond that, there was nothing to hint at where she had been brought to.

Catwoman glanced around the room, and saw that it was equipped with a white tub sunk into the floor, enough for two persons to lay in. In the center of the room, there was a metallic bar suspended from a hoist in the ceiling, which resembled the one she been suspended from to dry in the dirty warehouse prison, except that this one was of shiny chrome steel. The room had air-conditioning, which felt cool and wonderful against the sweaty body of the slave as she crawled on the tiles, being led by her slaver towards the bar.

The man stopped her just under the steel bar. It had been lowered to about the height of his chest as Catwoman was brought to a stop under it.

"Sit back on your heels." the man ordered. Catwoman obeyed almost instantly, raising her torso off the floor, with her bound arms lowered down by her sides. The man reached down and untied her right arm, and allowed her to unfold it, but then immediately pulled it back behind her, preventing her from making any attempt to strike at him. He pulled the opera glove off her right arm, before rotating her arm forward and up towards one end of the bar. There were metal manacles fitted to either end, and he opened the swing arm of the one on the right end, swung it around to encircle it around the right wrist of Catwoman, ratcheting it shut on its internal locks. Then, he untied her left arm, and repeated the process, stripping the fingerless glove that had clad it for so long, before securing the other manacle around her left wrist.

The man now untied Catwoman's legs. He took her left leg, and pulled it back, leaving her balanced on her right knee. She had to grab the steel bar she was manacled to for balance as he did so. She heard the zip of the boot being undone. The boot was then pulled off her foot, and dropped onto the floor. Replacing the leg on the floor, the man now turned to her right leg and took off the boot cladding it too, leaving her long legs uncovered for the first time in a long while. Once the boots were off, the man disappeared for a moment, and she heard a drawer being slid softly open. When the man returned, he was carrying chromed steel leg irons, a pair of large cuffs connected by a short chain. He squatted down behind the kneeling Catwoman and cuffed her ankles together.

When the man was done, he stood up and disappeared from view again. Catwoman heard the click of a switch being turned on, and the steel bar she was bound to begun to rise quietly towards the ceiling, as the chain suspending it disappeared link by link through a hole in the ceiling, until she was standing on tip-toes on her bare feet, her chest thrust forward and juggling lightly. The man went around behind her and untied her crotch rope. When the tension from the lines was released, the heavy dildo slid out of her lubricated vagina, falling with a soft plop between her manacle feet. Then, she felt her rectum retract, and the anal plug suddenly shot out from her ass, bounced on the tiled floor to land behind her.

The rope belt was still tied around her waist, under Catwoman's corset. The man now went behind her. He unfastened the clamps holding the ends together, and the garment almost sprung away from her body to flop onto the floor. With a sigh of relief, the chained captive glanced down at her torso to see the red imprints left by the inside of the corset on her soft flesh. With the rope belt now uncovered, the man completed the removal of the crotch rope and threw it aside.

The man next reached up and unbuckled the collar around Catwoman's throat. He let it fall to the ground as well. Then he unbuckled Catwoman's ball-gag. This too was allowed to fall to the floor. Catwoman closed her aching jaws and swallowed reflexively, tasting the rubber tainted saliva.

The man came around to the front of Catwoman. For a moment, he looked up at her, as if contemplating something. Then, with a flash, he pulled the purple cowl off of Catwoman's head, revealing the face of Selina Kyle for the first time since her second capture. Her hair was in a mess, and her make-up had long since been completely destroyed. Unlike the proud Catwoman, she looked tired and beaten subjugated. Her eyes popped open in shock at this move. The cowl was the only thing that had covered this fact. Now that it was suddenly ripped from her head, she felt all the more that she had been reduced to nothing more than a sex slave, in spite of the fact that had already been bound, gagged and sexually abused. This seemed the final nail in her identity as Catwoman, reducing her back to her former status as a cheap whore, an identity she had worked so hard over the years to distance herself from, remaking herself into a wealthy socialite as Selina Kyle, and as the dangerous Catwoman. Both have now been destroyed at the hands of the man.

"You are now no longer Catwoman, slut. In fact, you're not even Selina Kyle, the socialite." the man said, twirling the purple lycra cowl in his hand, "You're what you are really, that whore who call herself simply Selina as she does tricks by the roadside."

Selina thought of replying, but screwed her lips shut. She knew that it would only earn her some horrible punishment. Instead, she merely nodded submissively as the man threw the cowl aside.

"You are in a mess. We must clean you up." the man said. Suddenly, he raised his hands and clapped once. A white door in the corner of the room immediately opened and a pair of figure stepped in.

Selina gaped at the figures. They were obviously feminine, but they were clad entirely from head to toe in white latex. Both of them wore a latex catsuit with a high neck that reached their chin. It extended down their sleek bodies, adhering to every curve of their firm breasts and wide hips as it plunged down. The crotch of the catsuit was jammed up tight against their pussy, forming uncomfortable looking camel toes on their crotches. The leggings that flowed down from there clad their long thin legs, before ending up in white PVC ankle boots. Besides their catsuits, they wore white latex opera gloves, but these had fingers, unlike the ones she had been forced to wear during her second capture. On their heads, they wore a latex helmet that covered their entire head, including their faces, leaving only two brass gromets where their noses would be underneath, as well as mirrored lenses covering eyeholes over their eyes.

The women came towards Selina and reached up to the bar she was suspended from. With a soft click, the bar separated from the chain suspending it, allowing the slave to drop her arms. But she could not bring her wrists together, of course, as they were still secured on opposite ends of the bar. Then, one of the women kicked the back of her knees in, forcing her to fall on all fours. The other woman bent down and smacked her hard on her right buttock.

"Ouch!" Selina complained.

"Silence! Or the gag goes back in, understood?" the man admonished.

Selina nodded her head. She followed the two women as they walked towards the tub. She could not help but look up at the twisting butts of the two women marching ahead of her. She suddenly found herself feeling horny again. She was surprised at this. She was bisexual, of course, and had done both men and women, both in her days as a prostitute, and subsequently as a socialite and as Catwoman. Being aroused by good looking women did not surprise her. What did surprise her was how the intense, almost nympho, triggering of her libido seemed to cross over from being abused by the men to being kept in her place by other women.

By other slaves, Selina corrected herself. Looking up between the legs of the two women, she realized that there were two vague circles pressing against the tight crotch of the catsuit of each of the women. She knew all too well these were. They were butt plugs and dildos as well. Obviously, these women were just as stuffed as she was.

Selina was led to the tub and she climbed in carefully. The two women climbed in after her, and one of them picked up a shower head attached via a metal tube to a tap at the head of the tub. She turned it on and began to spray water onto the slave's sore body. She used a gloved latex hand to rub her body as she sprayed the water. She worked the spray back towards her pussy, washing away the grime on her cunt.

Selina moaned as she felt the woman insert her fingers into her slack sphincter, and twirl it around, before pulling them out, then penetrating her vagina to repeat the process. She lifted her head up and turned back with half closed eyes to look at the woman molesting her. Her eyes rested on the firm breasts that were poking provocatively at the thin rubber covering them, their nipples obviously engorged from arousal.

The woman now worked the spray under Selina's body. Her fingers now lingered over her firm breasts. As water was sprayed up at the gourds, she kneaded them, twirling their nipples. Selina could only moan at this treatment.

The woman lifted the shower head up now and sprayed Selina's head, wetting down her hair and face, flushing away the collection of perspiration and dirt that had accumulated under her cowl.

The other woman now stepped in. She took a sponge from the side of the tub, and a bottle of soap. She squeezed a generous amount of soap gel into the sponge, and lathered it until it was soapy. She then began to rub the sponge all over Selina. Once again, she moaned as she felt the roughness of the sponge play over her body, especially when it was rubbed into her asshole and cunt. She felt her body become more and more horny at this treatment. When the second woman finished sponging all over her body, including a vigorous scrub of her head, the first woman sprayed the soap off of her body until she was clean.

The two women now led Selina out of the tub. As she remained on all fours, the two women took towels from racks on the side of the wall nearest to the tub, and rubbed her dry. Once again, they paid special attention to her breasts and her cunt, causing the nympho slave to become still more aroused.

The two women now stood to one side, leaving Selina to brew in her sexual desire. The man now came up to her, and looked down at the softly panting slave.

"Her hair is in a mess." the man said, "Shave it all off."

Selina's eyes opened wide at this command, as if she was horrified, but she said nothing. The man smiled again in triumph. He knew that he had touched something in her, but she had kept silent, like a proper slave should.

The two women disappeared from view. When they returned, one of them was carrying a battery powered shaver. While the other woman now held Selina's head firmly, the first one switched it on. Its malicious buzz filled the room as the woman set to work, shaving the raven black locks off of the slave's head, leaving a short fuzz on her scalp. When they were done, one of the women took a handheld mirror and held it before her face to see her new haircut. She had to admit it was not too bad, actually. In fact, it reminded her of her androgynous haircut when she was a professional dominatrix.

The man came around again, and seemed please with Selina's new look as the other two women brushed any remaining hair off her nude body.

"Not bad. On your feet now, Selina." the man ordered.

Selina obeyed, climbing back onto her feet and holding her body erect before him, her breasts pointing proudly out as she tilted her buttocks back, feeling a strange pride at displaying her body before the man. She could not understand the sensation, but it was almost as if she appreciated being appreciated by the man as he looked up and down her body.

The man seemed to make up his mind about something, then snap another command.

"Dress her up. I'm bringing her out for dinner tonight." the man ordered.

The two women immediately grabbed Selina's arms and led her through the door that they had come in from. She was surprised to find herself now in a walk-in wardrobe that would have been the envy of any socialite in Gotham, filled with a variety of dresses and clothing, both fetishistic and normal street clothes.

"Bend over, slave, and spread your legs." the man ordered. Selina did she was told, bending over and placing her manacled hands on her knees, pointing her cunt back at him. The man reached forward and took the clitoris ring off her clit hood, before disappearing. Glancing back, she saw that the man had retrieved the dildo and butt plug that had been placed on her from the other room. They had been cleaned up, and were freshly lubricated. As they were inserted back into her, she found that they were no longer as uncomfortable as the first time they had been imposed on her.

As the man had not given her permission to straighten up, Selina remained bent over. The man went over to a chest of wooden drawers and withdrew something. It took a while for Selina to recognize it. It was made out of pliable transparent plastic, but it was shaped in the classical 'Y' shape of a chastity belt. It was secured by means of a small lock, the tiny flat box of which was bolted to one end, with steel tongues on the other two ends to complete the other half of the lock. He came over to where Selina was, and quickly fitted the belt in place around her waist, and over her crotch.

"Straighten up. But keep your legs apart." the man ordered.

The women now came forward. One of them held something in black lace, with black ribbons emerging from its four corners. She slipped it between Selina's legs, and picked up two of the ribbons while her colleague picked up the other two. The pairs were mated together separately, one set each over one of her hips, to leave her wearing a black lace thong over the transparent chastity belt.

The women retreated back to the wardrobe again, only to return with a corset stretched open between them. Unlike the rubber one she had just recently one, this one was made out of black satin and steel boning, and closed by hook and loops, which the women secured up her back once they've enslaved her torso with the garment. They came around to the front, and lovingly molded her breasts into the black lacy cups of the corset, leaving her breasts pressed together and upwards into a deep cleavage.

The women went over to another corner of the wardrobe, and came back with a pair of shoes. These were high-heeled sling-backs, whose body was made from black PVC. The heels, although high for most people, were a mere five inches compared to the horrid boots she had been forced to run in. Selina lifted back first her right foot, then her left foot for the women to put the high heels on her, boosting her height up once again, and putting her torso into that enticing arch, with her butt tilted back and her chest tilted forward.

"Put some make-up on her." the man ordered. The women now escorted Selina over to a vanity top. They seated her down on a cushioned bench. She sucked in her breath as the dildo and buttplug inserted into her was pressed up. She involuntarily clinched her buttocks. The women worked quickly on her, applying a base of pale foundation, followed by flashy red rogue, and purple eyeshadows. Her eyes were then lined with thick eye-lining, before thick mascara was applied to her eyelashes. Finally, her hips were painted a deep burgundy red to set off their pouty shape. When Selina looked at herself in the mirror again, she must admit that the women had done a very professional job, and all her best features, from her thick lips, to her high cheekbones, to her large green eyes, were beautifully highlighted.

Then, the women brought her up to her feet again, and Selina was brought back to the center of the room for the man's inspection.

"Very nice." the man breathed. He walked around Selina, admiring her beautiful body, clad now in lingerie. She lowered her eyes demurely.

"But if we are to go out in the open, you will have to be suitably restrained to prevent any escape attempts." the man added.

Before Selina could comprehend what he meant, the two women seized her arms again. While one of them held her elbows against her sides, the other took a long black satin ribbon, and wrapped it around her upper arms and torso, crossing under her breasts. She crossed the ends of the ribbon behind her back and brought them over her chest again, this time above her breasts, before pulling the ends behind her again. She knotted the two ends together behind her back, pinning her arms to her sides. There were still some lengths remaining free at the ends, which she now slipped under the arms of Selina. She pulled the free ends out from under her arms, before looping them down over the satin lines running around her breasts, and back under her arms again, before pulling them round behind her back. She knotted the ends together a second time, adding the touch of a neat little bow, as if Selina was being gift-wrapped, which in a sense she was.

"Put your legs together." the man ordered, and Selina obeyed.

The woman retrieved a second black ribbon, and this time doubled it and tied the loop end around Selina's clinched waist as a satin belt. She pulled the running ends through the loop, and pulled them down, as if she was going to tie a crotch rope. But instead of inserting them back between her legs, she turned the lines perpendicularly, and loop the free lines around her upper thighs, just underneath her buttocks, round to the front again, where she tucked the running ends through the bent formed when she first turned the lines. She looped the lines back the way they came, around her legs again, under her buttocks, back to the front again, where she now tied the running ends to the vertical lines coming down from the belt portion of the bondage. This left Selina's legs now trapped together. She knew she could still walk, but she would not be able to make any larger movement, such as kicking or running.

"Her mouth." the man demanded.

One of the women now grabbed Selina's lower jaw and the top of her head, and forced the former open. The other woman went over to the wardrobe and returned with a black lacy satin panties. It was a large pair that would have covered the whole of Selina's lower hips, but they were not meant for her crotch. The woman folded it into a square, then inserted the panties into her mouth. The black satin garment almost disappeared between her lips. The woman then took a black ribbon. She forced it in between Selina's jaws and between the fold of the square of satin in her mouth, before pulling it around her head to tie it behind the back of her head. When the first woman released Selina's jaws, her mouth closed over the panty, and there was almost no hint that she was gagged, with the exception of the black ribbon emerging from the corners of her mouth. This was soon solved when the women took a black wig, cut in a bob style, and placed it over her head. The sides of the wig came down the sides of her cheeks and neatly covered the corners of her mouth, making it seems as if there was nothing more untoward than a rather forced smile on her lips.

The women went back to the wardrobe and retrieved a black pencil skirt of satin. It was zipped back on the back, which they opened for Selina to step into. When they brought the skirt up to her hips and zipped it in place, she realized that the dress forced her legs together, like the hobble skirt she had been forced to wear on her training.

The women retrieved another piece of clothing and came back to Selina. It was a black satin shawl, which was closed in the front by a hidden heavy duty zip. They opened it up, and draped it over her arms, leaving her shoulders bare, but when they wrapped it tightly around her and zipped up the hidden zip, Selina found that the tough satin squeezed her arms in, adding its own restriction to the binding of black ribbon around her arms.

The women next took a pair of black satin gloves of unique arrangement from a drawer. Selina saw to her surprise that they were linked together at the fingers by a small clutch bag of black patent leather. The arrangement soon revealed itself when the women unhooked the clutch bag from the gloves, and put these on Selina. She found that although they appeared to be regular opera gloves on the outside, the fingers had in fact been stitched together, and she could not separate her fingers from each other. She could only use her thumbs. There was also a loop of satin under her wrists. These were actually the exposed portion of black satin ribbons that went around her wrists in the glove, twice. When the loops were pulled out, the ribbons constricted around her wrists, gripping them tightly like bindings, which in fact they are.

The small clutch bag was actually a critical component of the bondage. Behind the bag, two snap-hooks had been fitted. They brought it up to Selina, and placed the hooks through the satin loops of her gloves. These now linked her wrists together like handcuffs, with the stiff bag preventing her from bringing her hands together to liberate herself. Her thumbs were now folded over the top of the bag, and captured by tiny ratcheted cuffs, which prevent her from relinquishing control of the bag, and thus ruining the illusion.

Selina was now led before a tall mirror. She must admit, if she had not known, she would not have guessed that the figure looking out at her was, in fact, in bondage, with her arms bound to her torso, her wrists secured together, and her thighs very effectively hobbled. Of her gag, there was no sign at all, except her fixed smile, which looked a little grotesque, but not noticeably so.

"Very good." the man said. He grabbed Selina by the left arm, and now led her out of the room via a different door she had been brought in by. They went down a posh looking corridor, which reminded Selina of a posh hotel. She would never have guessed that behind her was a place where sex slaves were being kept in bondage and torment.

The man turned a corner and Selina found herself looking at a crowded lobby of a hotel. The man's grip tightened, in case she made any attempt to escape, but she was too well bound to try anything of that sort. Her eyes darted from side to side to see if anyone noticed that she was actually bound, but apart from admiring glances from men and women in the lobby, she was marched uneventfully through the lobby and out the door, where a long black stretched limousine was already waiting. The doorman held the door open as she was marched up to the car.

"Get in, sweety," the man said ironically, as he bent her firmly over. Selina contemplated for a brief moment making a move to try to draw attention to her predicament, but the dildo and buttplug inside of her suddenly roared to life. Her legs suddenly turned wobbly again, and she half fell into the back of the limousine.

"Careful now." The man said, giving her raised butt a tight slap, turning to smile at the astonished doorman, and gave him a fat tip before climbing into the limousine. The doorman thanked the man, took one last lustful look at the shapely woman now on her hands and knees in the roomy back compartment of the limousine, and closed the door firmly.

Now safely shielded by the dark-tinted windows of the car, the man hooked a finger through the ribbon gagging Selina, and turned her to face him.

"You were naughty just now. I think you should be punished." the man said. He reached up and unzipped the back of Selina's skirt and slipped it back and down, uncovering her rump. He raised his right hand, and brought it down in a powerful slap.

"MMMMPH!" Selina cried into her panty gag. She bucked from the blow, surprised at how painful it was.

The man delivered another slap, eliciting another cry from Selina. He delivered a third slap, and this time, she bucked her head back, throwing back the black strands of her wig, exposing the ribbon of her gag. The man continued slapping her buttocks until they were both glowing red.

"Will you be obedient now?" the man demanded. Selina nodded her head vigorously.

"Good." the man said, "Now turn around to face the front."

Selina did as she was told, shuffling around to face the front as her hands rested on the clutch bag she was cuffed to. She felt the man untie the right set of ribbons of her thong, and the tiny garment slip down her left leg. Then, the back of her chastity belt was undone, and the crotch strap pulled back from her crotch. Soon, the dildo was slid out of her and placed on the seat next to the man. The man then undid his pants, and before long, he was fucking her in her cunt.

The limousine took another half an hour to arrive at a posh restaurant, by which time the man had gave Selina a good fucking, and had restored her chastity belt, thong and skirt back into place. He forced her to kneel on the floor of the limousine until they were at the restaurant, when he pulled her back onto the seat, for appearance's sake. When they reached the restaurant, he got out first, and reached in to take her right hand, ostensibly a gentlemanly gesture to help her get out, but actually imposing a painful and firm grip to pull her out. She meekly climbed out of the car, as gracefully as she could. The doorman hardly glanced down at her as she got out, and straightened up.

Outside the door of the restaurant, a row of potential patrons were in-line, waiting to get in. The man, of course, did not have to wait, but was ushered straight into the crowded restaurant. Selina's entrance drew much attention from the other patrons, but they too seemed not to notice that she was actually bound under her clothes. She and the man was efficiently ushered to a small room, where they could dine privately.

Selina was rather impressed by the room. It was on a small balcony jutting out into a bay, filled with luxurious yachts. On the opposite shore of the bay, she saw the lights of a strange city, including commercial skyscrapers rising high above the bay, shining brightly in the gathering darkness of the evening.

"Sit." the man ordered, pointing to a chair set next to a candle-lit table opposite another empty chair. Selina marched over to the chair, and lowered her butt onto the cushion. She winced as her buttocks were still raw from the punishment she had received, not to mention the way the dildo and butt-plug were pushed deep into her. The man now took the other seat and picked up a bell, and rung it.

Immediately, the door opened and waiters came in with covered dishes, which they set before the man and Selina.

"I hope you will forgive me darling, but I ordered beforehand. I'm sure you will find the dishes to your liking." the man said ironically. The waiters raised the covers to uncover delicious smelling tomato soup.

The waiters turned and left, closing the door behind them. The man now stood up and went around to where Selina was seated. He picked up the bowl of soup and placed it on the floor, next to her.

"We may be at a fancy restaurant, but slaves still eat from the floor." the man said, "Get on your hands and knees."

Selina hesitated for a moment, then she recalled her punishment, and she slid down out of the chair onto her hands and legs. Her skirt and shawl, as well as the ribbons binding her, restricted her movements into sinuous twists and turns until she was just before the soup. The man now pulled out the ribbon from between her jaws and pulled out the panty from inside her mouth.

Selina was about to dip her head in when the man stopped her.

"Aren't you forgetting something, slave?" the man asked, unzipping his pants, and pulling out his member. He grabbed Selina's lower jaw and pulled her face to his crotch as he stood astride the bowl of soup. She knew what was expected of her, and she slipped her lips around his hot swollen penis. She worked her mouth expertly on his manhood, working her head back and forth as she wrapped her tongue against the blunt tip. She worked until the man moaned and was about to ejaculate. He pushed her head off his manhood, and shot his sperm out from his manhood into the soup below him. He sighed, then zipped himself up, and stood back.

"Now drink your soup, slave, and clean up every drop."

Selina said nothing, but bent down, and began to drink the soup with her tongue. It had cooled somewhat, allowing her to lap it up like a cat from a feeding bowl. The taste of the spices and tomato was so strong that she did not detect any hint of the sperm mixed into the soup. Soon, she managed to finish the soup.

"Good. Now back onto your seat." the man ordered, picking up the dish and placing it on the table. He wiped her mouth with the napkin, then placed the satin panties back in the orifice, before placing the ribbon across her jaws again, arranging the hair of the wig once more to hide the fact that she was gagged.

The man rang the bell again, and the waiters now returned. If they thought it was funny Selina did not use her soup spoon, they did not say anything as they cleared the dishes. The main course was next, and the man had ordered beef steak for Selina, cooked rare. They looked almost like raw meat to the clandestinely bound woman, but, of course, she could not protest. The man had ordered fish for himself.

Once the waiters were gone, the man had once more placed the dish on the floor. Selina was once more ordered onto the floor, and the panty gag removed from her mouth. Then, the skirt was stripped from her waist and her thong panties removed. The crotch strap of her chastity belt was unlocked and pulled out, and her dildo taken out.

"You may eat now." the man said as he unzipped his pants once more.

The man has the stamina of a bull, Selina thought as she raised her naked butt and planted her face down on the stake. She bit into it, and swung the meat in her mouth in an effort to bite a bit off. It tasted bloody in her mouth, but the sauce was actually exquisite. Then, as she chewed on the meat, she felt the man enter her cunt. She moaned and lifted her head up, sauce dripping from the sides of her mouth.

"Eat!" the man ordered as he began to pump her. Selina obeyed, and bit down on her steak again. As he continued to fuck her, she took bite after bite until the steak was all gone. Then, he ejaculated a third time that night. He moaned and sat back in his chair, exhausted but happy.

"My, my, you're a very good fuck, slut." the man said, looking down at the kneeling woman before him, "Give me a moment to recover. Go and stand against the railing of the balcony, and bend over to display your pussy."

Selina did as she was told, climbing up to her feet in difficulty with the black ribbon still binding her upper thighs together. She walked over to the railing, and bent over it. Below her, the black waters of the bay rippled as she looked over. Glancing to either side, she saw that there was no one that would be able to look into the balcony to see the sexual humiliation she was being subject to.

Then a thought struck Selina. Would she dare? The drop seemed almost fatal, and yet, the thought of being subject for the rest of her life to sexual slavery appalled her. She would rather die than be subject to such an existence. If she die, she would rather die from trying to escape, then when she was no longer of use to her slavers.

Selina leaned over, swung her legs over the railings, and allowed herself to drop over the railing, feet first. Behind her, she heard the scrape of the legs of a chair on the floor as the man got up. He was too late as she disappeared over the railing and she plunged towards the water below. The water came up with amazing speed, and her feet pierced through the surface, to be followed by the rest of her body. Her wig was torn off as water enveloped her head. She continued plunging into the wet darkness, until her momentum stopped, and she began to float upwards. She kicked her legs as best as she could. Although they were still hobbled, she managed to get some momentum going, and she drove herself out of the surface.

Bound as she was, Selina could not swim normally, but she leaned her body forward, as if she was snorkeling, and used the limited freedom of her legs to propel her forward, towards the yachts, and away from the shoreline behind her, over which the restaurant had hung. She tried to swim as fast as she could.

Then, Selina heard the sound of a motor behind her. Twisting her head around, she saw that it was a boat, speeding towards her. Some kind soul had probably seen her drop into the water, and was coming to rescue her. As the boat came up to her, a light shone onto her wet head bobbing in the water. Then the boat was next to her, and to her shock, a noose was dropped over her head, and then tightened. The noose was connected to a pole, and she was fished into the boat by strong arms. As she landed like a fish on the inside of the boat, more strong arms grabbed her. A pair of hands tore off her wig and took out the ribbon and the panty gag in her mouth, but these were immediately replaced by a proper ball-gag which propped her mouth wide open. Her wrists were released from the clutch bag, but immediately pulled behind her back and bound together with rope. Her ankles were placed against each other next, and bound with rope as well. Then the boat was turned around, and sped away from the lights. With a sinking heart, she realized that she had been very swiftly recaptured and her attempt at escape had been all too brief.

The boat had brought Selina back to shore at a secluded spot far away from the bay. The man was already waiting as she was carried onto the wooden pier by the strong arms of her captors. As she stood dripping wet on the wood, the man growled down at her.

"It was fortunate that I have put in place contingencies against such an attempt. I see that I have made a mistake. I should not have reduced your bondage. You're not as submissive as you seem. I will not make that mistake again.

Selina had been carried by her arms by two sailors to the limousine that was waiting, but instead of the passenger seat, she had been dumped into the boot of the limousine. Another piece of rope was now used to tie her ankles to her wrists. The length was mercilessly short, tucking her bound hands almost directly under her feet, forcing her torso into a painful arch. Then the boot of the car was slammed shut, and the limousine was driven off. Suddenly, as she struggled with her bonds, the dildo and the butt-plug still inserted into her sprung to life, sending powerful vibrations up her lower regions, causing her to scream into her gag.

When the limousine finally stopped, Selina had orgased twice, adding her own juice to the moisture of the water of the bay. She was pulled out of the boot, still hog-tied, and placed upright on her knees, supported by two pairs of strong arms. She saw that she had not been brought back to the warehouse. Instead, she was in garage behind a dilapidated one-storied building surrounded by a forest.

Selina was dragged into the building through an open door. She saw discarded and dusty machinery all over the floor of a large room, and guessed that it was some sort of abandoned factory. The man continued forward, leading her captors and their reluctant cargo deeper into the building, until they came to a spot where there were no machineries. Instead, there were about a dozen round iron covers on the floor. Above them, an ancient crane hung from an railing mounted along an iron beam, with a chain dangling down with a stout snap-hook at one end.

The man made a hand signal, and the strong hands holding Selina released her, dropping her back onto the floor. She glanced up with hatred at the man as he walked over to her ruthlessly hogtied form.

"We have our own way of dealing with recalcitrant, of course," the man said, "As with the best prisons, we have a system of solitary confinement. But, of course, we have our own unique twist to it."

As the man spoke, two of his men stepped forward and bent down over an iron cover. They unlocked a huge padlock closing it, and swung it open by its hinges to reveal a dark cavity beneath it. The strong smell of rubber entered her nose. There was a whine above them as a motor was started, and then the crane began to swing over to a spot above the cavity. The hook began to lower towards the cavity until it passed the brim. The men reached in and moved the hook, sliding it until there was soft click. Then one of them pointed his thumb up, at which point, the chain suspending the hook began to retract up.

Selina's eyes widened as she saw a black bundle being extracted out from the hole in the ground. It was humanoid in form. Indeed, it was feminine in form, as two bulges on its front indicated the sex of the form. Otherwise, there was no distinguishing features on the black rubbery surface of what can only be described as a body bag, albeit one that adhered very tightly to the form of its occupant. The bag had beefy steel D-rings bolted to its shoulders, on either side of the shrouded head of its occupant, and a short chain linked these two rings. The hook had been fitted through the center link of this chain to extract the body until its bottom was clear of the hold.

The crane's arm was now turned, and the body bag swung around to where the man and Selina were. She looked up and saw the bound form pressing against the latex covering it. She was obviously a very shapely woman, with large breasts and buttocks, but slender waist and limbs. Her arms had been pulled cruelly together behind her back, forcing her body into a forward arch which pressed forward her chest, and pushed back her butt.

The man reached up now over the head of the bound form, and grasped a heavy zipper. As the zipper came down the front of the bag around its occupants head, it parted. The man pulled it down until the zipper was at the throat, then pulled back the body-bag to reveal a head underneath.

Selina saw that the captive had long blonde hair, but it was difficult to tell much beyond that. Her eyes had been covered by a set of large plastic goggles with rubber padding. It had large plastic cups where the lenses should be, with wires emerging from the front of the cups. It reminded Selina more of night vision goggles. And like NVGs, the goggles were kept in place around her head with a thick leather strap over the top of her head, and another strap around the sides and back of her head. Her ears were covered with ear-muffs, from which more wires emerged. Her nostrils had thin air hoses inserted into them, held in place by rubber plugs, while the tubes twisted around her neck to the back of her head. Finally, her mouth was entirely concealed by a thick rubber panel, held in place by rubber straps that were secured round her head to behind her neck. A rubber hose emerged from the front of the panel and disappeared down into the body-bag. Looking down, Selina saw that the hose would emerge beneath the bag, together with the wires. The hose and wires led back to the hole and disappeared into it.

The man reached up and pulled up the goggles from the blonde's eyes. Selina looked up into a pair of beautiful cobalt blue eyes, but there was something wrong with them. They looked completely lifeless, as if their owner was dead already, and yet, she clearly was not. No, what they lacked was the independent spark of free-will. Selina shuddered involuntarily.

The man pulled the goggles back over the blonde's eyes, and zipped up the bag again. The bag was now swung back over the opening and lowered into the hole. As it disappeared into the hole, the other men reached in and unhooked the bag, and closed the lid over the poor woman.

Selina looked up at the man, fear in her eyes now. The man smiled with contempt and made a signal. She was grabbed by her arms once more and pulled onto her knees. The rope lashing her wrists to her ankles were cut, and she was allowed to stand on her feet.

"Cut those fancy clothes off her. She doesn't deserve them." the man ordered. One of his men stepped forward and opened a folding knife. He cut through the black satin ribbons binding her arms and legs first, before setting to work, attacking the corset and the thong. Soon, their shredded remnants fell to the floor, leaving Selina in only her transparent chastity belt and her slingback high heels. These were soon stripped from her as well, with her dildo and butt-plug being pulled out unceremoniously after she was bent over. Then, totally naked accept for her ball-gag and rope binding her wrists and ankles, she was dragged over to an iron pillar rising high upwards near to where the hatches were. Here, she saw that an old iron framed bed had been turned up to rest on its head. The springs had been removed, leaving only the frame. She was dragged up to the bed. Steel manacles had already been fitted to the corners of the bed. Her right ankle was immediately secured to one corner of the bed-frame, before the rope was cut, and her left ankle pulled across to the corner opposite the first. Then the rope binding her wrists were cut, and her struggling arms wrestled up to the two upper corners, each of her wrists being secured to one of the corner such that her naked body was now spread-eagled defenselessly. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle, tugging at the manacles binding her.

Selina's slaver now came up to her, looking up at her bound form, her juggling breasts as she writhed and struggled, and her pert buttocks behind her.

"It'll really be a pity to put you in that hole for years. I really would like to fuck you a lot more, but you're too much of a firecracker at the moment. At the end of your confinement, you will become a lot more compliable. Believe me."

Selina opened her eyes wide in horror at the man's speech. Years! They were going to put her in a dark hole for years! The thought struck her with dread.

"Of course, there's no guarantee that your mind will survive," the man said, "You'll be deprived of any sound, sight, smell, or taste. Your skin will be totally covered, and you will be surrounded by water. Total sensory deprivation."

Selina screamed her defiance into her ball-gag, but all she managed was to propel some of her drool his way.

"Oh yes, it would have been a lot more enjoyable to break you the usual way," the man said, smiling, "But at least I will have all the hours of videos I have of you taken over the past few weeks."

One of the other men pushed a cart into view. Selina's slaver turned at the sound, and smiled. A pile of latex garment had been placed on it, and he picked up the topmost piece. Selina looked down to see a helmet of black molded rubber. It resembled the latex cowl that she wore when she was captured the first time, but this one had larger eyeholes, and had an opening for the lower part of her face, from her nose down to her chin.

"I had wanted you to put this on when we got back. You see, you could have become Catwoman again … all right, maybe not Catwoman, but perhaps Catwhore. You would have been my little kitty cat slave pet. I had thought that stripping you of your identity as Catwoman, reducing you to the whore Selina again, and then allowing you to take back part by part of your identity as Catwoman, under my permission and control, of course, will make you the perfect sex slave slash thief, to be used as I see fit, to steal my competitors' secret. But, alas, I see that that is no longer possible. Selina and Catwoman are indistinguishable. To break Selina, it is Catwoman that must be utterly controlled, totally bound, and completely brainwashed."

The man took the cowl and stepped up to where Selina was bound. Her head was seized by two sets of powerful hands, preventing her from moving her head away as the man slipped the thick rubber cowl over her head through the opening at its bottom, and pulled it down her head. It was a difficult fit, but the man was relentless as he pulled the stiff rubber over her head. As it slipped down her head, her chin emerged from the top of the lower opening on its front and the eyeholes came to rest around her eyes. The neck of the helmet snapped into place around her throat, holding the cowl in place. The visage of Catwoman once more stared down with hatred at the man, struggling with her manacles.

"It is Catwoman who must be reduced to the status of being a sex slave, a total nympho that is dependent on me to fulfill her addiction. This will be a control more powerful, and less debilitating than, a heroin habit." The man explained as he picked up the second garment.

Catwoman looked down and saw that he was holding a rubber corset, rather liked the one that had been placed on her before, but closed in the rear by a heavy metal zipper, rather than the fasteners. It also had actual boning, which actually looked severe in the way the bones bowed inwards. His men took either end of the corset, and now placed them around her waist. She found that unlike the previous rubber corset, the front of this one rose up all the way to cover her breasts. As it was wrapped around her flank, they crushed her heavy breasts together to form a deep cleavage. She felt the ends mated up behind her, and then she felt the open ends of zip being mated up, and the zipper being pulled up her back. The bones of the corset dug into her waist, clinching it in.

The man turned and picked up a third piece of garment. It was like the chastity belt that had been placed on Catwoman earlier in the evening, but made of heavy duty black rubber. It also had three holes fitted to it, stacked one above the other along the crotch strap. The first hole was actually quite tiny, and she could not fathom its use. The next two, however, were obviously meant to be fitted with a dildo and an anal-plug. The chastity belt was now placed around her waist, and the crotch strap pulled up over her vulva, with the three ends being locked in place behind her back, imprisoning her loins.

Next, the man did something curious. He picked up a hooked needle, with a thick white thread placed through its hole. He stepped up to Catwoman, and pierced the hem of the corset with the needle. Then, to her surprised, he began to sew the hem of the corset and the top of the chastity belt together. He worked around her until the belt was attached to the corset by a series of crude white stitches around her waist.

The man now stepped back to the cart, and picked up two long pieces of rubber. Two of his men took one of the pieces and wrapped it around Catwoman's stretched right leg. They then pressed the long sides of the pieces together over the outside of her thighs. The man took his needle and thread again, and set to work. Soon, the latex piece was sewn together over her leg, cladding it like a legging, with white stitches down the outside. This was repeated with her left leg with the other piece. Then the man sewed the top of the leggings to the hem of the chastity belt, down the front from her hips down to her crotch, then up between the cheeks of her buttocks, back to her hips again, joining the leggings to her chastity belt.

It occurred to Catwoman then that a thick rubber costume was being sewn to her body as she was bound spread-eagled to the bed frame. The next item was a long piece that was stretched across her chest. Three panels rose from the long piece up. The center panel had a semi-circular scoop in front, while the two end panels had shallower quarter scoops. The hem of this piece was sewn to the top of her corset. Then the center panel was pulled up to the neck of her cowl, and sewn into place. The back of the piece of rubber were now mated up behind her and sewn together, before the top was sewn to the back of the neck of her helmet.

Only Catwoman's arms were now uncovered. This situation was soon remedied by additional rubber strips being applied around her arms, and sewn in place to form sleeves. Then the man sewed the ends of the sleeves to the top of the rest of the costume around her arm sockets, completing a catsuit around her bound body.

The man now gave another command. Catwoman's right knee was now raised and forced against the side of the bed frame, and a rope used to bind it in place. Then, the manacle around her right ankle was released. Her right lower leg was now pulled back. Another man now took a boot off the top of the cart and went around her back. Glancing down, she saw that it was a black PVC boot, but it lacked any toes. Instead, it pointed straight down. She realized that it was a ballet boot, which would force her foot into a permanent ballet en pointe posture. She could not resist as the boot was placed around her foot, forcing her to point her toes back as it was being laced up her shin until the top of the boot closed around her knees. When the man behind her released her foot, she found that she could not manipulate it at all, as the top of the boots were fitted with shanks around her ankles, making any movement impossible. The men set to work on her right leg now, and soon, her left foot was similarly booted and forced into a torturous point. As her knees were released and her ankles once again secured, her calve muscles immediately complained at the load imposed on them, but there was nothing she could do.

The men now set to work on Catwoman's hands. First her right hand was released and her arm pulled back to render any attempt as resistance futile. The men took a fingerless rubber glove, and placed it around her right arm. Her hand was pressed into the bulb at the end of the glove, her fingers being forced into a useless clenched fist by the internal contour of the bulb as the glove was pulled up her arm. Then, the long opening along the glove was sewn shut, and for added security, the top of the glove was also sewn directly to the sleeve of the costume. Her right wrist was then manacled again. When this was done, her left arm was similarly gloved.

Catwoman now looked like some sort of rag door someone had crudely sewn together, with white stitches criss-crossing her shapely body. The glossy black rubber stretched over her every curve, hugging them closely and adding luster to their rounded shape. She made an enticing figure, spread-eagled as she was.

Catwoman's slaver now reached up with a knife. He cut off the leather strap still holding her rubber ball-gag in her mouth, and pulled the instrument of silence out from under the rubber of her cowl.

"Fuck you!" Catwoman cursed vehemently.

"Curse all you like, Catwoman," the man said airily, "Soon you will not be able to speak for years."

One of his men had pushed away the first cart, and he returned with another cart. The man picked up one of the items and showed it to Catwoman. It consisted of a thick rubber panel of the sort that she had seen placed on the other woman. Its inside had a thick rubber penis secured to it. It had a realistic slit on its front, just like a real penis. On the other side of the panel, a long rubber hose emerged and dropped down to the floor. The man took the ends of the rubber straps secured to the sides of the panel, and stepped up to Catwoman with it. One of his men grabbed her jaws and pried it open, allowing the man to slip the rubber penis between her resisting jaws. Then, he pulled the straps behind the back of her neck, and with a click, he locked the ends together behind her. This left the hose dangling down the front of the captive's body to the floor.

The man now picked up two instruments that were intimately familiar to Catwoman. The dildo was unremarkable, except for its girth and length. After it was lubricated, it was soon installed in Catwoman's cunt. As it was slid and screwed into place, she threw her head back at the sensation, and moaned. Then, the man picked up the anal plug.

She saw that there was something different. The tip of the cone had been removed. Instead, there was a small recess at the tip, forming a cavity like an egg-cup. In the center of this cavity, there was a large hole. At the bottom of the flanged base of this plug, a long black rubber tube came out and dangled on the floor. The plug had been lubricated too, and it entered her slack sphincter with little difficulty, in spite of its truncated tip. It slid into place, and like the dildo, its base was screwed into the corresponding thread on the inside of the rear hole on the crotch piece of her chastity belt, eliciting gagged moans from Catwoman.

The man now took up a piece of equipment Catwoman had never seen before. It looked almost like a hypodermic needle, except that it did not have a sharp end, and was thicker. It too had a screwed base, but had a thin rubber tube running out from its bottom. The man walked up to her, and bent down.

To Catwoman's horror, she realized that she had one more lower orifice left that had not been plugged. It was her urethra. The sensation as it was pushed up her narrow tube was almost excruciating, and she could only shake her head in protest, flinging the rubber tube attached to her mouth from side to side.

"Stop that!" the man ordered, slapping her head across her right cheek, knocking Catwoman's head to one side. Then he stepped back, and picked up a rubber nose clip of the same sort that had been placed on the other unfortunate woman. The two thin hoses had already been connected to the plugs on the clip, and the man now shoved these into Catwoman's nostrils, plugging them. She was now forced to breathe through the long tubes dangling down from her nose. The tension of the clip itself was like a clothes peg, pressing in her nose to keep the plugs in place.

When this was done, Catwoman was finally released from the bedframe. She fell onto her hands and knees. Although she was now unsecured, there was no way she could fight back. Her hands were encased uselessly in rubber bulbs, while her feet were stringently forced into points, preventing her from rising to her feet. Rubber hoses emerged from every orifices in her body, with the exception of her ears, dangling about her as she crawled futilely, trying to get away from her captors, and the cruel fate awaiting her. She was easily caught, and forced into a kneeling position. Her arms were now pulled back behind her. She felt a long piece of rope being pulled over her neck, and pulled down under her arms, only to be twisted back up around her upper-arms. The men whipped the ends of the rope over and over again over her arms, working their way down from her arm pits down to her elbows, forcing them cruelly together, before working their way down, stopping only when her wrists had been bound together. She could now no longer separate her arms, and her torso had been forced into the cruel arch she had seen in the other woman, her chest pushed forward, and her butt tilted back.

Catwoman was now pushed onto her side. Another rope was applied to her, this time doubled. The looped end was belted around her corseted waist, and the lines pulled down to her crotch. But these lines were not pulled back to form a crotch rope, but instead, separated before being pulled around her hips down and back to behind her buttocks. The lines were then whipped together, again and again, down her long thighs, until her knees were forced together. The men continued to work their way down until her lower legs, like her long thighs, had disappeared under a dense matrix of rope. The men stopped only when her ankles had been tied together.

Catwoman could now only wriggle helplessly at the feet of the men. She had been very thoroughly bound indeed. Her hands and feet had already been rendered useless to her in the bulbs and ballet boots. Now her arms and her legs had been lashed tightly together.

As if this was not enough, the men now picked up an arm sheath and slipped it over her bound arms. The conical rubber garment slipped up her entire arm until the top reached her armpits. Then the shoulder straps attached to its top was thrown over her shoulders, and crossed over her chest, and pulled down under her arms, back to the arm sheath, where they were secured by locks to the sides. The laces on the back of the sheath were then tightened to constrict the sheath around her rope bound arms. A rubber hobble skirt was next, belted around her waist and pulled down her rope-bound legs. The skirt was pulled around her legs, and then laced up, adding its own imposition to her bound legs. Her latex covered butt was left uncovered by the skirt, and the hoses plugged into her nether regions emerged here to spread out on the floor next to the writhing Catwoman.

The men now took one last piece of rubber item, and came up to Catwoman. With a chill, she saw that it was the body-bag, of the same design that had been used to contain the other woman. It looked like a shroud to her as its front was unzipped. One of the men now scooped her up, and placed her helplessly in its confines. The tubes emerging from her head were now pulled down her back, and placed together, before being pulled down to her butt. Here, they joined the tubes emerging from her crotch. These were then coiled around her legs, and pulled out through a rubber seal at the bottom of the bag. Then the bag was zipped up. As the zip was pulled up her bound and hobbled leg, it added its own grip to her lower limbs, as the tough rubber constricted around them. The body bag continued to grip more and more of her body as the zip moved up, and soon her arms were pressed tightly against her back as the zip came up to her neck.

Only Catwoman's head remained uncovered. She writhed helplessly in her layers of bondage, completely helpless and dreading her fate. A short length of chain was now attached to the D-rings on the shoulders of the body-bag. Then the crane was swung into place above her, and the hook lowered. When she was hooked up, the chain retracted, and she was raised bodily up into an upright position, swinging lightly from her suspension. One of the men now reached into an open hole near her, and pulled out a series of hoses. He then proceeded to mate up the hoses plugged into Catwoman with the corresponding hose, using the markings on the hoses to make sure he connected the right ones up.

"Take a good look at the world, Catwoman. You will not see it for the next few years." The man said.

Catwoman's eyes opened wide in terror. She shook her head in protest.

"MMMMMMPHHHH! MMMMMPPHHHH!" Catwoman screamed, but there was no sign of sympathy from any of her captors. One of them now placed the goggles over her eyes, plunging her into darkness. As she struggled, she felt the earmuffs placed on her head, and then, the body-bag was zip shut over her head, encasing it with rubber.

The silence and darkness was awful. Catwoman felt something inside of her snap, and she started to scream and scream in terror. But this was not to be the end of her ordeal. She felt herself being swung aside now, and then slowly, she was lowered. Her sideway swinging was arrested now as she bumped into the walls of the hole she had been lowered into. After a brief pause, she began to feel pressure increasing on her feet, then her lower legs, up towards her torso. She realized the hole is now being flooded with water. When the water reached up over her head, she felt herself floating. Then, the hook was removed from the top of her head, and she slipped deeper into the hole. Finally, with a damning clang, the cover was closed over her watery prison.

At this point, Catwoman screamed and screamed and screamed.

Catwoman did not know how long she was kept in the total sensory deprivation. It felt like an eternity. She was in her own dark, silent hell. Then, light began to flicker before her eyes. She realized that the goggles strapped to her eyes contained small screens. The light flickered, and then became coherent pictures.

At first, Catwoman could not comprehend what she was seeing. Then she realized that she was looking at a square of latex covered body. The image zoomed back now, and she realized with a start that it was her! She was in her original black latex catsuit, and she was back in the study of the man, bound helplessly. Then, as she walked she saw the crotch of her catsuit being cut open, and her panties cut off. Then, the man raped her. Over her ears, tiny speakers in her ears played back the sounds of her rape, with every gagged moan that had been recorded played back to her in high definition audio. In addition, almost inaudibly, a voice whispered, "You are being fucked by your Master, whom you must obey. You are being fucked by your Master, whom you must obey."

At this point, the dildo and butt-plug inserted into her came alive, vibrating in pulses. Catwoman felt herself being shaken to the core by the power of the pulses. She writhed in her body-bag, moaning into her gag. She felt her body building powerfully towards an orgasm, then suddenly, she moan and shook as she cummed. Then, the scream went blank again, plunging her once more into darkness.

Catwoman endured the sensory deprivation for another eternity, before she realized that something was trickling into her mouth. A fluid was coming out through the slit in the penis gag in her mouth. Eagerly, she began to suck on the penis, as if she was giving the rubber member a blow job. The harder she worked, the more juice would come out, which she swallowed eagerly. She fed and fed, engorging herself on the fluid which tasted very closely like semen. She felt until her stomach was extended, pushing against the confines of the corset and the body-bag. Then, her goggles and earmuffs came to life again, this time playing a scene from inside her own apartment, when she had been captured the second time. She was forced to watch herself forced to put on her purple costume and then being put into bondage. Once again, the dildo and butt-plug came to life, rocking her nether regions, and forcing her into an orgasm. Then, there was silence and darkness once more.

This was repeated several times. Catwoman would be fed. Then she would be forced to watch an episode from her captivity and sexual slavery, while being compelled into an orgasm. Otherwise, she had only total sensory deprivation to accompany her imprisonment.

Catwoman soon realized that her stomach was becoming bloated and her bladder was full. She suddenly understood why her urethra had been plugged. When she released her bladder, she felt her warm urine drain out of her through the urethral plug, and out through the tube attached to it. When she needed to shit, the butt-plug performed a similar function. Her shit would emerge into her rectum, to be immediately dropped into the cavity at the tip of the plug. There was the sound of vacuum sucking next, and she guessed that the shit was sucked out from inside of her.

It was all very efficient. Catwoman was being fed, and the refuse removed from inside her body, all while she was tightly bound up in her rubber prison. This understanding only added to her despair at the totality of incarceration she had been placed in, where even such basic bodily functions were taken away from her. She was to all intents and purpose, nothing more than an object, part of a machine.

As her imprisonment stretched, such coherent thoughts became more and more rare in Catwoman's mind. Her grip on reality began to slip as her starving mind, deprived of all other senses, and permitted only the images of her own debasement and ravishment, came to be wrapped around those visuals and sounds. Her orgasms began to dominate her life, such as it was, these being the only intense emotions and sensations permitted to her in her private rubber hell.

Catwoman watched her ordeals, from being marked like a lifestock, to her ordeals in the cage, to her treadmill training, to her gang-rapes by the guards, were all shown to her, to be accompanied invariably by enforced orgasms. With her mind now completely enthralled by these images, she soon craved for them, to see her own sufferings, to see herself being used as a sex slave. To her mind, they were becoming the core of her existence.

With time, Catwoman did not even need the powerful ministrations of the dildo and buttplug. Once the images flickered on, she began to get horny. When the dildo and plug came on, she achieved orgasm quickly. Her mind now looked forward constantly to the next time. She was like an addict, craving her next hit. Yet with each hit, she craved even more desperately for the next one.

All thoughts of the world outside Catwoman's prison receded from her mind. She had an awareness of her identity as Catwoman still, but now it was being twisted and perverted inside her own mind. Her costume now became a fetishistic symbol of her enslavement. She was no longer the infamous thief. She was a sex slave, and her Catwoman identity was at the core of that slavery. Catwoman was nothing more than a sex toy for her Master. It was only right that she was to be abused and used as he saw fit.

Catwoman no longer cared about how long she had spent in the prison. She was almost unconscious of the fact that she was being hoisted up when her Master finally returned. When her body bag was opened and her goggle ripped off, she almost cried in despair, so integrated had her psyche been to the rubbery prison. Then her eyes fell on the man standing before her, and her eyes lit up with licentious pleasure. It was her Master.

Catwoman had become no more than a sex


	2. Chapter 2

Breaking Wonder Woman

The glitzy night lights of Las Vegas reflected off the shiny black latex fabric that completely covered the figure that clung precariously to the side of the building. Wedged into a crack along the seam between two sides of thirty-storey hotel, sides covered completely with glass as reflective as the fabric on the figure, it made its way steadily up, using a pipe running down seam to help it scale up to the top of the building.

Anyone who could see the figure would realise that it belonged to a woman, with the very narrow waist, the rounded hips and the bubble-like buttocks that hung out into the air as the figure climbed. As the figure turned to throw one of her long slender arms up to grip the pipe, her torso swung to one side to reveal a pair of semi-spheres on her chest, just above her waist, which seemed impossibly large for even a well-endowed woman. The observer would probably wonder how the woman could climb with such agility and confidence with such a large pair of breasts.

The figure got to the top of the building now. She reached over the railing and pulled herself up and over it, suspending over empty air for a second as she hauled herself in. She squatted for a moment as she paused to catch her breath, to make herself as small a silhouette as possible as she scanned the empty deck of the penthouse suite of the hotel. Her entire head was clad in latex as well, leaving only a pair of eyeholes, through which a pair of green eyes looked out. The heavy black lining, the thick black mascara and the dark blue eye shadows all served to make the eyes looked large, almost cat-like, which complimented the pair of cat-like 'ears' sticking out of the top of her head. Nothing else of her face was visible, although there was a pair of grommets under her nose that allowed her to breathe more easily.

The figure stood up now. She crept on all fours towards the sliding doors, like an oversized cat, allowing her to move quite silently, even though she was wearing a pair of high-heeled boots of black glossy PVC. Again, an observer would wonder how she managed the climb up the building in the impractical footwear. Her buttocks swung behind her sinuously as she moved towards the doors. At the doors, she stretched her body forward for a moment, lowering her hips down to the ground as she placed her face against the glass. Watching and listening for a moment, she ascertained that there was no one in the living room behind the doors. Reaching up, she tested the doors. They slid apart easily. Clearly no one was expecting someone to enter through that way.

The figure crawled into the living room and slid the doors shut again. She drew her body up into a crotch, with her hands resting on the floor, her arms straight between her squatting legs. She heard the sound of someone showering. Stretching her body out onto all fours again, she crawled towards the sleeping room past the Luxe furniture pieces of the living room. The bedroom door was once again unlocked, and she opened it easily, and slipped in.

The sound of showering was now much louder. The occupant was clearly in the attached bathroom. The figure looked around the room, and immediately saw what she had come for. It was a coil of rope that hung from the back of a chair in front of the dressing table. The rope seemed to shine even in the darkness of the bedroom. The figure crawled towards the chair. She glanced sideways at a rack next to the chair, from which a costume hung. It was a strap-less satin garment, so it hung by a pair of ribbons sawn to the inside. The bustier top was red and its top edge was trimmed with gold in the form of two large stylized 'W's, one on top of the other, the stretched out to resemble an eagle with outstretched wings. The bottom piece of the costume was blue with white stars emblazoned on it. It had high leg holes which reached up to the hips of the costume, ending just below the bustier. A gold tiara with a red star as well as a golden belt hung from the rack next to the costume. A pair of red PVC boots, trimmed with white on top, with heels about three-inches high was in front of the rack. Finally, a pair of silvery gauntlets laid on top of the dressing table next to the rack.

The figure ignored the costume and reached for the rope. Just as her latex gloved hand touched it, the lights of the room were turned on. The figure's head snapped around and she saw a tall – indeed, Amazonian- woman standing in the doorway into the bathroom. Her body was dripping wet and uncovered, without even a towel to shield her modesty. Her limbs were long but muscular, not quite as over-pumped as bodybuilders', but certainly powerful like that of a world-class athlete.

The woman had broad-shoulders as well, which added to the sense of power as one looked at her. She had a lengthy torso under those shoulders, which curved in at the trim waist, but flared out again over her wide hips, forming a perfect hour glass figure. Her breasts were large but hung firmly high up on her chest, proudly erect, with her light brown nipples visibly enlarging and hardening in the cool air of the room. The woman's raven-black hair was curly and long, which framed her beautiful face. The face was Grecian in features, with high cheekbones and large dark brown eyes, ending with a strong chin underneath full-bodied lips.

It did not take Sherlock Homes to guess that this was Wonder Woman.

For a moment, the eyes of the two women met.

"Catwoman!" Wonder Woman exclaimed.

The latex clad burglar did not say anything. She bolted up straight and grabbed the lasso. She turned and fled through the bedroom door. Wonder Woman ran after her, her powerful limbs powering after the latex figure. As she ran into the living room, she saw that Catwoman had already gone through the open sliding doors and onto the deck. She turned for a moment to look back, then she leapt over the railing. The naked woman ran up to the railing, her breasts juggling on her chest, and looked over, expecting to see Catwoman falling to her death. Instead, she saw that the burglar had landed on a stack of empty cardboard boxes piled neatly on a rooftop jutting out from the hotel wall a few floors below. She was already up, with the golden lasso coiled across her body over her left shoulder. She reached a taut line tied to the railing on the edge of the roof, a line which stretched all the way down to the road. She grabbed a pair of handle bars fitted to a karabiner hooked over the line, and even as Wonder Woman watched in anger, she stepped off the roof and zipped down the line. As she landed on a street, a black van pulled up and its rear doors opened. Catwoman stepped into the van and it sped off.

Wonder Woman was about to launch herself after the woman, but stopped herself. She looked down, remembering that she was stark naked. She turned and ran into the suite again. She got into the bedroom, and tore the costume off its ribbon suspenders. She unzipped the back of the satin costume, and pulled the garment on. It slid smoothly up her body until the blue bottom clad her buttocks and crotch snugly. As she pulled the zip up, the bustier gathered around her torso, hugging her hips as the front came up and back to fit over her full breasts. The zip came to a stop just below the level of her shoulder blades, and she reached out for the metal belt. Throwing it around her waist, she pulled their ends together and held them in place using the set of hooks and grommets fitted to them. The belt came to rest low over her hips, neatly covering the seam between her red bustier and blue bottom. Wonder Woman bent down and slipped on the pair of boots, zipping them up so that their tops reached her knees. Then she stood up and picked up the pair of gauntlets, and slipped them around her lower arms through the slits on their backs. Closing them around her wrists, they fitted snugly as she flexed arms. Then she turned and ran out of the suite again.

With a leap, Wonder Woman jumped into the air and flew high into the night sky. She looked in the direction where she last saw the van sped away, and it did not take long for her to spot the black vehicle as it turned into another street. She flew after the van. By the time she caught up with it, it was parked in an alley next to a warehouse.

Sensing a trap, Wonder Woman landed warily next to the van. Its doors were open, and it was empty. She turned to the warehouse and approached the door carefully. It was locked, and she was wary that it might have been booby-trapped. Glancing up, she noticed a row of windows high up on the wall. She flew up to the windows and glanced in.

The interior was dark, except for a spot in the centre which was lit by some lights suspended from the roof, but Wonder Woman could not see anything beyond the rows and rows of shelves packed with boxes. She flew up onto the roof, landing lightly on the gravel-covered roof. She crept towards the skylight in the centre of the roof, and looked in.

Wonder Woman gasped at what she saw. In the centre of the warehouse was a space empty of shelves. Instead, there was a rack resting on the floor at an angle. The rack was constructed from heavy wooden beams and planks, and had an almost medieval appearance to it. It was fitted with heavy steel rings at each of its four corners. And spread-eagled tautly on the rack, with her limbs bound by ropes to the rings, was a woman.

"Batgirl!" Wonder Woman muttered under her breath. Batgirl had been missing for almost three months now, and Wonder Woman knew that Batman had been worried sick looking for her. In spite of his detective skills, he had not been able to find her. It seemed as if the earth had opened up and swallowed her whole.

Batgirl was dressed only in the remnants of her costume. The black PVC fabric of the costume had been torn and cut in many places, particularly around her torso, such that there was almost nothing covering her nubile breasts and crotch. Her bat-eared cowl was still in place, but its neck had been pulled up above her nose to gather in a band over her eyes, forming a blindfold. In her mouth was a large black rubber ball, held in place by a thick leather strap threaded through its centre and encircling her cheeks and neck. She still had her yellow boots but her yellow gloves had been stripped away, as was her utility belt.

Wonder Woman could see that Batgirl's breasts, crotch and inner thighs, all naked of any fabric, were covered instead by red welts. She had obviously been horribly abused. Looking closer, Wonder Woman could see two black rubber plugs on her crotch. She realized with a start that these were the ends of rubber dildos that had been inserted into the poor woman. Even as she watched, she could see Batgirl writhing her hips, as much as her bonds would allow, as if tormented by the dildos inserted into her.

A black latex clad figure came into view. It was Catwoman. She sauntered up to the bound Batgirl, and reached up around behind her head. She fiddled with something, and then the leather strap holding the gag in Batgirl's mouth came loose and she pulled the rubber ball from the open orifice.

"Ready to talk yet?" Catwoman purred. She was holding a cat-o-nine tails in her hand, which she swished in the air for effect.

"Never!" Batgirl said, her voice weak but still defiant. Catwoman swung her whip and brought its leather tentacles onto the captive's crotch with a firm thwack. Batgirl screamed and bucked.

"Just tell me who Batman is, and all this will end." Catwoman said in a velvety voice as she circled Batgirl. She swung her whip again, and this time, the tentacles landed on the prisoner's breasts. Batgirl screamed again, twisting her body away from the blow.

"Ne ... never!" Batgirl croaked.

"I know you won't talk, so I brought something better." Catwoman said. She walked out of view. A moment later, she returned, bearing something in her hands. Wonder Woman saw that it was her Lasso of Truth. In an instant, she connected the dots. She knew why Catwoman had stolen the lasso. Having failed to torture the information out of Batgirl, she will now use it to extract the information she wanted.

Wonder Woman stood up and launched herself through the skylight. The glass shattered as she smashed through it. She swooped down towards Catwoman, intent on grabbing her around her waist. But her arms gripped thin air, and she flew through what she thought was Catwoman. Confused, she did not stop in time, and flew through Batgirl and the rack as well before smashing into a steel pillar.

"A hologram!" Wonder Woman gasped as she stood up, getting into a combat stance for this was obviously a trap. The next instant, several canisters were flung out of the darkness surrounding her into pool of light where she was. Even with her super fast reflexes, even though she recognised that they were grenades of some sort, she did not react fast enough as they went off with blinding light and sharp bangs. Instantly, she felt giddy as the images she saw froze into a sort of hazy grey and white photo. Amazon combat trained or not, super-strength or not, Wonder Woman's physiology was still similar to other humans. That meant that she was affected in the same way by the stun grenades. The powerful noise generated by the combined detonation of so many stun grenades overwhelmed her senses, violently disturbing the fluids in her ears, disorienting her.

As the Amazonian princess stood temporarily stunned and blinded by the stun grenades, Catwoman stood out of the shadows. She held Wonder Woman's lasso in her hand, and with one deft motion, she flung the lasso out to encircle Wonder Woman's legs. With a tug, she tightened the lasso around Wonder Woman's ankles. With another tug, she swept the Amazonian warrior off her feet, causing her to fall heavily onto her back.

Catwoman was on top of Wonder Woman in a flash. As the latter lay on the floor, still stunned, she lifted her trapped ankles up and over Wonder Woman's stomach. At the same time, this caused her ankles to become crossed and spread open her thighs in such a way that Wonder Woman's crotch was exposed to view. Holding onto the lasso, Catwoman grabbed each of Wonder Woman's arms and pulled them under the crossed ankles, between her thighs. Moving into a position facing Wonder Woman now, Catwoman rested her knees onto the latter's thighs, forcing them down further, with her knees on either side of her breasts. She lifted up Wonder Woman's wrists, and crossed them over the top of her ankles, such that each of Wonder Woman's arms were hugging her corresponding lower legs. Then, with the lasso, Catwoman bound Wonder Woman's wrists together by coiling the line several times around the wrists, then turning the direction of the running line to coil it several times across the lines now binding her wrists, before tying the line off with a half hitch where Wonder Woman could not reach with her fingers. The entire process took no longer than a skilled cowboy would take to bind a calf.

By the time Wonder Woman recovered from the effects of the stun grenades, she found that she had been quite effectively bound. She could roll her body from side to side, or twist her body, but the way her wrists were crossed and bound over her crossed ankles meant that she could not unfold her legs. Her crossed wrists trapped her legs in a spread position. Wonder Woman realized that she could not break her own Lasso of Truth, that the glowing coils would hold even her amazing strength. With growing despair, she understood that she was now a prisoner.

"What do you want with me, Catwoman?" Wonder Woman demanded as she struggled futilely. Catwoman remained silent as she used the tip of her booted right foot to lift the bound captive onto her right side. She knelt down behind Wonder Woman, and unclasped the hooks holding Wonder Woman's belt in place. She pulled the belt off from around her waist, and flung it aside. She then removed Wonder Woman's tiara and threw it carelessly aside as well.

"Stop that!" Wonder Woman demanded with growing fury and helplessness. Her lasso held her securely and prevented her from doing more. Catwoman ignored her as she pulled the free end of the lasso down from the latter's crossed wrists down to her stomach. She then pull the free end down the Amazon's left flank, the one laying against the floor, and pulled the free end out from under the bound woman. She looped the line over Wonder Woman's right flank, and mated the running portion of the lasso to the portion running down from Wonder Woman's bound wrists to where it disappeared under her. Catwoman knotted the portions together to form a belt around the Amazon's trim waist, before feeding the running end between widely her spread thighs. Catwoman pulled the running end down Wonder Woman's groin, over her crotch.

"What are you doing?" Wonder Woman asked again, her voice an octave higher as Catwoman reached out with a gloved hand, and slipped it into the right leg hole of Wonder Woman's costume, running it down until it reached her crotch. She pulled aside the crotch piece of her costume to expose her freshly shaven vulva.

Catwoman remained silent as usual, and slipped the line of the lasso between the lips of Wonder Woman's vulva. She then made a thick knot in the lasso where the line would cross over Wonder Woman's anus, before she pulled the line over Wonder Woman's tailbone and feeding the end under the line around Wonder Woman's waist. Then Catwoman tightened the line viciously, causing the rope belt around Wonder Woman's waist to constrict over her generous hips, before tying it off with a knot to the rope belt around Wonder Woman's waist. This caused the line between her vulva lips to tighten over her clitoris under its hood and was driven deeper into her vagina mouth. The knot over her anus now pressed itself hard against her anus, and caused the puckered mouth to spread a little as it pushed its way into her.

"Urrgh!" Wonder Woman moaned as she felt the line tighten in her sensitive nether region.

"Please stop that!" Wonder Woman pleaded as Catwoman continued to work with a resolute silence. The feline now pulled the free line up from Wonder Woman's waist to a point on her spine, just below her shoulder blades. Catwoman now wrapped the line around Wonder Woman's torso, once, and then a second time, below and above her large breasts. Catwoman then tied these lines together, tightening them tightly above and below Wonder Woman's breasts. Again, the Amazon warrior felt the sensation of a sensitive part of her body being bound, this time her breasts.

Catwoman pulled up on the free end of the lasso again. It seemed to lengthen at her will as she pulled the remaining line up Wonder Woman's back to her neck. Catwoman grabbed the Amazon's long luscious hair and pulled savagely down, forcing Wonder Woman to tilt her head back. Catwoman now wrapped the line twice around her head, over Wonder Woman's cheeks and between her jaws, deep into her mouth. Then she tied the line off between her head. Wonder Woman's head was now tilted back in an uncomfortable angle by the lasso. Not only that, she was now effectively gagged by the rope in her mouth.

"Gaggh! Gggah!" Wonder Woman grunted as she writhed in her bonds. She discovered to her horror that the more she tried to free herself, the more she tried to lift her head to a more comfortable angle, the more the lines of her own lasso would rub her in the most sensitive regions. Her breasts would be kneaded. Her clitoris would be rubbed. The inside of her vagina would be chafed. Her asshole would be stroked.

Worse, to her consternation, Wonder Woman found that her body was beginning to respond to the combined effects of the lines binding her. She could feel herself becoming more and more horny until she began to become wet in her cunt. The effect was quite obvious as whitish foam began to leak out of her vulva lips.

Why was Catwoman doing this to her? Wonder Woman wondered. She glanced out of the corner of her eyes to see Catwoman come around her trussed form. She stopped in front of Wonder Woman, where she could see her. Catwoman reached back around the back of her neck, and began to pull down on the zip running down the back of her costume. The zip came down all the way to the cracks of her buttocks, and she grabbed the sides of the costume, and began to peel the latex off her back, then off her shoulders, before pulling them down, off the front of her body and her arms.

Underneath, Catwoman was wearing a black latex corset that squeezed her waist in to what was probably a trim 24". The corset had severe boning, and Wonder Woman wondered for a moment how the thief had managed to move so easily in that garment. The corset also did not have full cups, only a ledge under her breasts to help lift up them up but otherwise left them uncovered. They seemed unnaturally large to the captive Amazon. She knew that Catwoman was a well-endowed woman, but in her previous encounters with her, her assets had not seemed so enormous. As Catwoman bent down to unzip her boots and take them off one by one, they hung down like ripe melons from her chest.

Catwoman did a half squat as she pulled down the catsuit over her hips and buttocks, to reveal the fact that the corset had a broad strap attached to its hem, on the front and back. The strap ran down Catwoman's groin, over her crotch and up her back, nestling snugly between the generous and firm cheeks of her buttocks. Wonder Woman was startled to see that there were small locks holding the strap to the corset, placed through steel brackets on the hem of the corset which pierced through steel plate reinforced slots on the ends of the straps. Looking up, Wonder Woman saw that the back of the corset was closed by a strong metal zip, and the zipper was locked to the top of the corset by another small lock to rings on the top of the corset.

When the catsuit was fulling off, Catwoman walked over to a near-by trolley that Wonder Woman had not noticed before. She saw Catwoman picked up a pair of heavy boots. These looked strange. They did not have the normal soles of boots. Instead, there were only straight shanks down to a tip-toe, paralleling the very high stiletto heels behind them. The boots had tightly laced up fronts, but also zippers on the sides. Catwoman sat down on her buttocks, and pulled the boots over her feet, zipping them up. Then she locked the zippers in place with small locks to rings on to top of the boots.

Catwoman now reached behind her neck, and pulled up on the zipper of the zip closing her cowl around her head. The back of the molded latex headgear spread open as the zipper went up to the crown of her head, allowing the woman to pull the cowl off. She was wearing another cowl underneath, of thinner latex, which still had cat ears, but had larger eyeholes and did not cover the mouth. Wonder Woman was startled to see that Catwoman's mouth was filled with a large red rubber ball gag which propped her jaws wide open. The drool had gathered during the time Catwoman had spent in the larger cowl now dripped off the sides of her mouth and chin onto her proffered breasts.

Catwoman now got on her knees and reached for the top of the trolley. She took a broad strap of thick leather off the top, and encircled the strap around her throat. It covered her throat completely, and forced her to tilt her head up. She buckled the twin buckles behind up, and then locked them in place with more small locks. She reached for the top of the trolley again and retrieved a pair of leather shackles, which she buckled tightly in pace around her wrists, before locking the buckles in place. The shackles were linked by a thin, foot-long, chain. She took a snap-hook attached to the middle of the chain and lifted it up to the D-ring bolted to the front of her collar, and snapped it in place.

Why has Catwoman locked herself in the costume? Wonder Woman asked herself, forgetting her own troubles for the time being. Catwoman lowered herself onto all fours. As she did so Wonder Woman saw her raised crotch. She saw that the strap had two plastic knobs on them, arranged one on top of the other. She realized that they were in the right position for a dildo inserted into Catwoman's vagina, and a plug inserted into her asshole. This only baffled Wonder Woman even more as Catwoman crawled from the trolley towards her. When she reached a spot next to the trussed Wonder Woman, she stopped and sat back on her ankles, with her folded legs spread open before her. The short chain linking her collar and shackles caused her arms to be lifted up on either side of her formidable rack, almost like a dog raising its arms in a begging position.

"You have done well." Boomed a voice over a hidden loudspeaker. Wonder Woman twisted her head and body around towards the direction of the voice.

"You may pleasure yourself." The voice continued.

Wonder Woman heard a buzzing sound starting and she twisted around to look at Catwoman again. She had dropped onto her hands and knees again, and her head was tilted back and her eyes closed. She was moaning softly into her ball gag. Looking at her crotch, Wonder Woman could see the plastic plugs on her crotch strap vibrating. Looking at the powerful pulses from the plugs, she could only imagine what the dildo and plug inside of Catwoman must be doing.

Catwoman twisted and moaned. She tried to reach down towards her crotch by straining her right hand back, but the chain linking her wrists to her collar was too short, and she could not get past her breasts. She could only sit back on her heels and cup her large breasts with her gloved hands. She began to knead them.

"You may make use of the prisoner." The voice boomed again.

Wonder Woman's eyes became large at saucers at that. She watched Catwoman crawl towards her, her eyes filled with lust. What was she going to do? Wonder Woman asked herself, panicking for a brief moment as her captor turned her buttocks loomed over her face. Then Catwoman sat down on the face of Wonder Woman, pressing her crotch into her jaws.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman screamed from under Catwoman's crotch. Catwoman was already juicing nicely, with white liquid coming out from the sides of the strap, and Wonder Woman could smell the mildewed smell of Catwoman's crotch, barely an inch away from her nose, mixed heavily with that of leather and latex. It was a heady bouquet.

Wonder Woman fought, trying to push Catwoman away with her jaws. All she succeeded in doing was to push the plugs deeper into Catwoman. That was exactly what her captor intended. Catwoman began to rock her hips up and and down, riding Wonder Woman's face as the captive fought her from underneath. Wonder Woman could feel the powerful pulses of vibrators on her chin as Catwoman ground down her crotch onto her face. She tried to shake her head to repel the woman, but she could not. After a few minutes, she felt Catwoman shudder on top of her, and a new flood of foam emerged from either side of Catwoman's crotch strap, splattering Wonder Woman's face.

"MMMMMMMPH! MMMMPH!" Wonder Woman screamed into her rope gag in protest.

Catwoman sighed, and finally lifted her crotch off of Wonder Woman's cum smeared face. The superheroine twisted and writhed in her bonds, incensed at the humiliation that had been inflicted upon her.

"How do you like my Catslut's cum all over your face?" the disembodied voice boomed, "Quite a number of johns enjoyed having that done to them, and my little kitty whore here has earned me quite a tidy sum of money."

"Great Hera," Wonder Woman mused, "What has he done to Catwoman?"

Wonder Woman looked up at the latex clad Catwoman, now contentedly lying on her side. She was so unlike the proud and fiercely independent Catwoman that Wonder Woman had dealt with on several occasions. That Catwoman that she knew would never have been reduced to a fetish sex slave like that.

"Enjoyed yourself, slave?" the voice asked. Catwoman immediately got up on her hands and knees again and nodded vigorously, the drool from the corners of her mouth dripping onto the concrete floor with each movement of her head.

"Why don't we introduce our new pet to the pleasures of slavery?" the voice continued. Wonder Woman's eyes widened again at the implications of those words. She twisted around to see Catwoman crawl over to the trolley. When she reached the trolley, she stood up on her knees and picked two objects off the top. When she turned around, Wonder Woman could see what they were. In one hand, Catwoman held a plastic squeeze bottle containing some fluid. In the other was a gleaming black rubber dildo of a size that Wonder Woman had never seen before.

"Ah yes, the largest dildo that we have. I am sure that an Amazonian warrior would have no problem accommodating something like that." Boomed the voice from the loud speaker.

"GGGGAAAH! GGAAAAAH!" Wonder Woman protested as Catwoman crawled with cat like grace over to the captive, clasping the two objects in her hands. She crawled to a point just in front of Wonder Woman's face, and sat back on her heels. Then, with a thumb, she pushed open the snap-cap of the bottle, and holding up the fat dildo, squeezed a large amount of viscous liquid from the bottle onto the black rubber surface of the dildo. Then she held up the wet dildo in her hand so that Wonder Woman could see clearly its girth as well as the hundreds of tiny bristles lining its surface.

"GGGAHHHHH!" Wonder Woman protested again as Catwoman now crawled out of view. She strained to see the feline burglar, but the way she was bound meant that she could not look down at her crotch. She felt a latex gloved hand touch her vulva lips, stroking them, and then a finger was inserted under the lasso cleaving through them. The line was lifted out from between her vulva lips and placed against her crotch to the left. Then, she felt slippery fingers slip pass the vulva lips into her vagina.

"GGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Wonder Woman screamed in anger at the penetration, but this only served to advertise her utter helplessness in denying entry to Catwoman's fingers as she smeared the inside of her vagina wall with lubricants. In fact, the ministration of the woman was making Wonder Woman even more horny than she already was from her bondage. She knew that she was beginning to juice below, especially as Catwoman expertly worked her clitoris with her thumb.

Then, to her horror, Wonder Woman felt the blunt rubbery tip of the dildo being placed against her vulva. Her vulva lips parted and the tip entered into her vagina. Immediately, she felt the wall of her tract begin to stretch as the monster entered her, slowly but surely, its bristly sides brushing against the sensitive flesh of her vagina, sending shock waves up her spine, causing her to shudder.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Wonder Woman screamed into her rope gag. She felt as if the wall of her vagina was being stretched to its limit, as if it would be torn asunder at any moment. She rocked her hips and twisted her body, but she could not fight the continued advance of the monster as it inched its way deeper and deeper into her. The intruder seemed to be filling her up all the way to her stomach, and she wondered for a moment if it was entering her womb.

Finally, the monster stopped, when Wonder Woman felt its broad base touch her vulva, with a bristly knob pressing against her clitoris. Catwoman once again crawled into view, past Wonder Woman, back towards the trolley. Wonder Woman turned a wary eye towards the swaying upraised buttocks of the crawling fetish slave. She stopped at the trolley again, and picked up another object, also made of gleaming black rubber. It was conical in shape for much of its length, before ending with a pinched waist and a flared base. Wonder Woman knew what it was. It was an anal plug. While it did not look quite as large as the dildo now in her, she had never had a butt plug placed in her before. The fear of how it might feel filled her with dread as the Catwoman crawled back towards her, her unnaturally large and firm breasts swinging beneath her.

Catwoman disappeared from view and Wonder Woman heard the pop of the squeeze bottle being opened again, followed by the wheezing of liquid being squeezed out. For a moment, there was silence. Then, she felt the coolness of a lubricant stained latex covered fingers touch the puckered lips of her anus.

"GGAAAH!" Wonder Woman moaned as she felt a single finger penetrate through her asshole, and wriggle around. Then, she felt the tip of a second finger being pressed against her anus. There was some resistance before it too managed to penetrate into her, stretching her sphincter a little wider.

"GGGGAHHH!" Wonder Woman moaned again. The fingers were now turning in her asshole in unison. Then, they began to separate, stretching her sphincter further as they rotated within her anus.

"GGAAHHHHHH!" Wonder Woman moaned at the increased discomfort.

The fingers were withdrawn for a moment, but Wonder Woman knew that the respite would not last. Sure enough, in a few moments, she felt the tip of the cone being pressed against her anus. With her sphincter now stretched, her anus offered only limited resistance as the cone was pushed into her. When the circumference of the cone passed the extent that the sphincter had become accustomed to, she felt the discomfort of it being stretched again, and she moaned once more into her gag. The sphincter seem to spread wider and wider until she thought it would snap before, suddenly, the cone seemed to shoot into her rectum, and her sphincter closed around the narrow stem of the butt plug. The plug was now inserted into her.

Wonder Woman felt Catwoman take the lasso over her crotch, and placed it back over her vulva. The line pressed against the base of the dildo and butt plug, driving the rubber objects deeper into the captive.

"GGAHHHHH!" Wonder Woman moaned, shaking from the sensation of the two monsters inside of her.

"Did you enjoy that?" the loudspeaker spoke again. Wonder Woman could only attempt to shake her head in despair as the lines gagging her chafe the sides of her mouth.

"Don't worry, there are more from where those came from." The voice said gleefully, "Your slavery has only just begun."

Just as the sentence ended, the two rubber objects inside of Wonder Woman suddenly began to vibrate, pulsing powerfully within her lower orifices.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Wonder Woman screamed and screamed as she was shaken to the core. She had never felt such powerful sensations now sending shock waves up and down her body. Worse still, her body was responding very quickly to the vibrations, particularly to the violent rubbing of her clitoris knob by the base of the dildo. Suddenly, she felt herself cum, an explosion of pleasure mixed with the violence of the vibrations within of her, so powerful that it overwhelmed even the Amazonian warrior's powerful mind, and she fell into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Wonder Woman moaned as she regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered before snapping open as her mind came together and the memory of her brutal capture and humiliation snapped into focus. She found herself lying alone on the floor of a small room. It was probably about six-feet by six-feet. The walls of the room were of bare concrete, as was the floor and ceiling. It was lit by fluorescent lights shielded by heavy, yellowing plastic covers behind heavy metal mesh in slits along the sides of the ceiling. A heavy steel door closed the only exit out of the room.

After the first cursory examination of her surroundings, Wonder Woman turned her attention to herself, twisting and turning her head to see as much of her body as she could from her supine position.

Wonder Woman saw that she was still bound with her own lasso. However, the bondage they had placed her in had become even more elaborate. Her arms had been pulled behind her back, and placed against one another such that her elbows were touching. The lines of her lasso criss-crossed her arms in a dense matrix from over her shoulders, out under her armpits, and then down her upper arms and lower arms until her wrists. The lines of her lasso not only encircled her wrists, but had also been pulled down under her thumbs and then wound round the back of her hands such that her palms were tightly pressed against one another.

From Wonder Woman's bound hands, the lines of her golden lasso stretched down in two directions, towards her long slender legs. Her legs had been folded, and the golden lines used to bind each of her ankles to their corresponding thighs. Given the length of the lines from her wrists down to her folded legs, her legs were spread open. Her body was also forced to arch such that her breasts were thrust upwards towards the ceiling.

Dull aches in her two lower orifices reminded Wonder Woman of how she had previously been abused by Catwoman when she was first captured, but she could not feel the monster dildos within her anymore. Glancing down past her breasts, she saw that the crotch of her costume had been restored back to their original position. However, her girdle was missing, and the lack of the grip around the crown of her head told her that her tiara had been removed too. Otherwise, the rest of her costume was untouched, a bit to Wonder Woman's surprise.

Just as Wonder Woman completed the inspection of her predicament, there was a heavy crash of metal against metal, and then the grind of metal rubbing against metal as the heavy iron door to her cell opened. She found herself looking up past her legs at a bald man standing at the door, dressed in a dark-suit with white shirt and black tie. He looked shrunken and wasted, and there was something unnaturally bulky about his legs. As he stepped into the room, Wonder Woman realized that they were encased in a steel exo-skeleton. There was a soft whirl of electric motors with every step he took.

Wonder Woman's eyes widened when she saw two glossy black figures entered the room behind the men, crawling on all fours. The figure on the right was Catwoman. Still clad from head to toe in black latex, she was wearing a latex waist clincher that was even more constricting than the corset she had wore when she tormented Wonder Woman. The clincher only helped to emphasised the roundness of Catwoman's buttocks which wriggled behind her, and the size of her breasts that dangled from her chest, the heft of which the thin latex material of her catsuit could only succeed in dampening in their jiggling. Her hands were formed into fists and placed within a pair of short mittens, which kept them in that form. The heavy rubber that the mittens were made from prevented her from even wriggling her fingers. The top of the heavy rubber mittens were fitted with thick cuffs, which were locked around her wrists by means of small locks bolted into place on the rubber.

To further constrict her movements, Catwoman's feet had been placed into boots of glossy black PVC. These boots were ballet boots, which had long seven inch heels and straight shanks which forced her feet to be positioned parallel to the heels in a pointed position. If she stood up, Catwoman would find herself standing at the tips of her toes, like a ballet dancer. It would make any aggressive movement almost impossible.

The boots had been laced tightly up to her knees. Even if Catwoman could somehow get to the laces with her bound hands, additional straps, covered in black PVC, encircled her boots at strategic locations, over the swell of her calves just under her knees, and at her ankles, that were locked in place with small locks similar to the ones keeping her mittens in place. These would make it impossible for her to remove the boots on her own without the necessary keys.

Catwoman was wearing a latex hood over her head, which was moulded so precisely to her face that the eyeholes neatly encompassed her eyes, and the circular mouth hole exposed only her garishly painted lips as her mouth was stretched wide open by a rubber-coated ring gag. The gag was fitted to an elaborate leather harness which encircled her cheeks round to behind her neck, down to her chin, up either side of her nose, around the crown of her head, and finally over the top of her head between the two moulded cat ears on the top of her hood, before coming down the back to meet the straps encircling her cheeks and neck. Finally, Catwoman was wearing a narrow leather collar studded with diamonds, to which a leash had been attached. The other end of the leash was held in the man's left hand.

The other woman was dressed in almost the same way as Catwoman. However, the ears of her hood were higher, and more pointed, like that of a bat's. There was no eyehole on her hood. Instead, there was a circular pattern of pinpricks over where her eyes should be, to allow her vision. She had no mouth hole either. Instead, a barely visible zip ran across where her mouth should be, and Wonder Woman could see the bulge of a ball-gag at that point, pressing against the latex of the hood. A short cape was attached to the back of her costume, but it was just for show, and it was not long enough to cover her upraised buttocks, which twisted and swung with the same energy as that of Catwoman's. Finally, the woman's bondage mittens were longer, extending up to her elbows. Like the ballet boots she wore, these were of a bright yellow.

If there was any doubt who the latex imprisoned woman was in Wonder Woman's mind, this was removed when the man came to a stop in front of Wonder Woman, and the two women halted to either side of him, and sat back on their heels, their hands resting on the floor. This allowed Wonder Woman to see the front of their costumes. While Catwoman's catsuit was plain in front, the other woman's had a window cut into the front, closed by yellowish transparent latex. The window was in the shape of a bat with outstretched wings, and exposed both of the woman's breasts.

"Batgirl!" Wonder Woman gasped, "What have they done to you?"

Like Catwoman, and unlike the Batgirl Wonder Woman knew, the latex clad figure now spotted enormous breasts, probably D or even DD cup-sized mounds of flesh. They seemed to look even larger with the woman's waist pinched in so narrowly by the waist clincher. Her nipples were swelled up and pressing against the latex of the window, and Wonder Woman could see gold rings threaded through them.

"She can't answer you, obviously," the man said, a thin smile appearing on his lips.

"Who are you? What have you done to them?" Wonder Woman demanded. The man knelt down next to her, and slapped her hard across her right cheek.

"Urrgh!" Wonder Woman grunted, surprised at the slap. She had been hit hard, punched, beaten and crushed in her many fights with supervillains before, but this was the first time she had actually been slapped by a mortal man. It was an unsettling experience.

"You will learn to speak only when spoken to, slave." the man said, standing up and walking away from her. Wonder Woman twisted her body around and looked at the man as he walked up to a chest of steel drawers at the corner of the room.

"I am not your slave!" Wonder Woman shouted in defiance, "Let me go this instance or you will regret it!"

The man opened a drawer and took something out. Wonder Woman saw that it was a large black rubber ball, perhaps two and a half inches in diameter, with a thick leather strap threaded through its centre, with a heavy steel buckle on one end, and steel-reinforced grommets punched in a line along the other. He came over to where Wonder Woman laid. She was now lying on her right side as she struggled to see what the man was doing. Bound as she was, she could not prevent the man from planting a foot on the right side of her back, and flipping her flat onto her back. Then she felt the man placed a knee on her back, and a hand grabbed her long luscious black hair.

Strong as she was, Wonder Woman still had a human anatomy, which meant that she was still vulnerable to the use of jujitsu locks or other types of physical control methods. The man yanked back on her hair, forcing her to lift up her head. Her jaws slackened enough for the man to shove the foul tasting rubber ball deep into her mouth. Then the man let go of her hair and quickly grabbed the ends of the leather strap. Pulling back hard, he forced the strap as far back as it would go between her jaws. This curled the corners of the Amazon's mouth far back, like a sort of grotesque smile. When he could not pull the strap back any further, he buckled the strap in place behind her neck. With the thick leather strap at the root of her jaws, Wonder Woman found that no matter how she tried to chomp down on the leather strap, her jaws simply could not get enough leverage to cut through the leather. Worse still, the presence of the rubber ball in her mouth – even now the visible portions its rubber surface was glossy with her saliva - and the way the corners of her mouth had been pulled back meant that she was already beginning to drool.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman screamed into her gag, enraged.

The man, in the meantime, had walked back to the drawers and returned with coils of ropes. These were thick sisal ropes, notorious for their prickly texture. He dropped the ropes onto the floor next to the struggling Amazon princess, who was still unable to break her binds. He pulled her onto her right side such that her breasts were facing him. With an unceremonious move, he grabbed the front of her bustier, and pulled down savagely. The cups of her bustier slipped down, releasing the two globes of flesh they had supported and exposing her brown nipples. They began to elongate, thicken and harden in the cold air of the room.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPHHHH!" Wonder Woman screamed in anger, as she once again jerked at her ropes, again in futility. Worse, it was causing her breasts to juggle before the man's eyes, which lit with ill concealed lust.

"My my, you do have a magnificent body." the man muttered as he put a hand on her large left breast and squeezed it.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHH!" Wonder Woman screamed in protest as she tried to jerk her body away from the man's grasp. She had never been handled like this before by a mere mortal, and it filled her with a sense of humiliation.

The man ignored Wonder Woman's protest and reached into a pocket in his suit jacket. He took out a switch blade knife and flicked the blade open. He put the blade against the centre of the Amazon's bustier, and ripped down. The material parted before the keen blade, peeling away to expose the captive's flat stomach, then her abdomen, and finally, her black curly pubic hair. When he reached this point, the man lifted the blade, and fed it through the left leg hole of Wonder Woman's costume. He then sliced through the top of the crotch piece. The crotch piece fell back to reveal Wonder Woman's crotch. At the same time, the costume fell apart to leave Wonder Woman's torso naked.

"MMMMMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHHH!" Wonder Woman once again made a futile attempt at protesting her treatment but it was clear now that the man would not stop. Not when she was at his mercy. Not when she was so utterly powerless to prevent her own humiliation.

The man now stood up and grabbed her left arm. Pulling up, he lifted Wonder Woman into a sitting position, resting on her lower legs. Bound as she was, she was left with her legs spread open. As she twisted and writhed again to try to break free of her own lasso, her large breasts swung from side to side. The man stepped back and let the Amazon struggle until she finally stopped, panting lightly. A long drop of drool hung from the corner of her mouth, hanging down towards her left breast.

The man now picked up a coil of rope. He had already doubled the rope, which was about seven metres in length. He now passed the rope around Wonder Woman's back, under her bound arms. He then pulled the lines of the ropes forward, and fed the running ends through the elbow formed when the rope was doubled over. He pulled the running ends through the elbow until the lines were taut around Wonder Woman's body, under her breasts. He adjusted the lines upwards such that they slipped under the curves of her breasts, with the mounds folding over the rough lines. Wonder Woman sucked in a breath when she felt the prickly texture of the rope touch the sensitive underside of her breasts. It sent a shock of sensation up her spine that she had never felt before.

The man now pulled up the running ends over the Amazon's left breast. He pulled the twin lines around Wonder Woman's left flank, round her back, under her arms once more and then out from her right flank. He passed the lines above her right breast now, before feeding the running ends under the elbow formed where the lines first rose up from her deep cleavage up her left breast. He tied the lines together here, to form a thick knot in her cleavage and leaving the lines running below and above her breasts in a criss-cross pattern. The man had pulled the lines so taut that the rope was already biting into the smooth skin of the Amazon, and her breasts were squeezed between the lines, both flattening and lifting them at the same time.

"MMMMMMPH! MMMMPH! MMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman panted into her gag as she felt the tightening of the rope around her breasts. The rough texture of the rope continued to send a strange combination of signals to her body. While she was obviously being constrained, she was also beginning to feel strangely ... aroused? That could not be! Wonder Woman told herself.

The man now picked up the second coil of rope and came back to Wonder Woman. He doubled the rope like the first, and oiled the rough lines around her slender waist, just above the swells of her hips. He twisted the loop end under the lines, before feeding the running ends through the loop. As he pulled the lines taut, a knot was formed, holding the lines around her waist together in a tight belt. He then stretched the lines down her abdomen to her crotch. Here, he expertly made two knots. When he pulled the lines between Wonder Woman's legs, she found that the knots came up and tightened against her vulva. One of the knots pressed against her clitoris hood, while the other pressed against her anus. As the man pulled up the lines between the cheeks of her buttocks, a shock wave ran up her spine as the knots pressed deep into her.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmph..." Wonder Woman moaned into her gag.

"Do you enjoy that, slave?" The man asked laughing as he tucked the running ends under the rope belt around Wonder Woman's slender waist, over her spine, and knot the lines tightly in place. Then he pulled up the running ends again, and pulled together the lines running around her torso. He tucked the running ends under these lines and then made another knot to hold the lines together. This put more pressure on Wonder Woman's breasts.

"Mmmmmmph ... mmmmmph ..." Wonder Woman moaned. She had never felt like this. She was being put into bondage and yet she was feeling more and more aroused. Any move she made would cause the rough sisal rope binding her torso to chafe her sensitive parts, particularly her clitoris, where the knot in the crotch rope was now grinding away at the knob with even the slightest move she make.

The man now pulled the running ends of the sisal rope up between Wonder Woman's bound elbows, between her upper arms. He reached up and fed the running ends into a hook suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Then he began pulling down on the lines

"MMMMMMMMMMPHHHH!" Wonder Woman screamed into her gag as she felt the rough sisal ropes suddenly constrict around her body. She felt her torso being lifted up a bit with each pull made by the man. Then her lower legs were lifted off the floor until she was standing on her knee-caps. Finally, even her knee-caps were lifted off the floor. At this point, all the weight of her body was concentrated on the lines around her breasts and her crotch, causing them to bite deep into her soft flesh.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHH!" Wonder Woman protested into her gag. The drools flowing out from the corners of her mouth were sent flying as she shook her hair, flailing her black hair about here. The man ignored her as he continued pulling until her head was at the same level as his. Then he pulled the ends of the rope to a near-by wall and tied it to a hook embedded in it.

Wonder Woman had endured many kinds of torture before, even bondage in chains, but she had never been so expertly bound in this way before. Everything the man did to bind her seemed to be calculated to cause her to become more and more aroused. Even through the pain in her crotch her and her breasts, she could feel the building tension in her lower body. She wanted to deny that feeling, but she could not ignore it.

The man now came to Wonder Woman's right side. He took hold of the end of the lasso binding her right leg. The line began to elongate as he began to pull on it, obeying the wish of whoever wielded the line to lengthen. When it was of sufficient length, the man tucked the running end of the golden line under the lines running around the right flank of Wonder Woman's torso, just behind her squeezed breasts. He pulled down on the line once it came up over the top lines, and fed it a second time under the lines from below. When the line once again came up over the top, he pulled it down. This caused the golden line to pull the lines on her right flank to come together, squeezing her right breast further until it was like a bun bulging out from her chest. This also had the effect of forcing Wonder Woman to lift up her right leg, spreading her legs apart further. The man made a hitch to hold the line in place once her leg was about forty-five degrees from the horizontal. He then moved to her left side and repeated the process.

When the man was done, Wonder Woman was left in a most uncomfortable predicament. Any attempt to close her legs meant further pressure on her already abused breasts. However, leaving her legs spread open meant that the man could have easy access to her lower orifices. It was a horribly humiliating position to be put in.

"Comfortable now, slave?" The man asked.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Wonder Woman moaned, almost pleadingly.

"We're not done yet." the man said, smiling. He went over to the drawers and came back with a large black dildo. The man went up to Wonder Woman, and hunched down so that he looked up at her exposed crotch. He reached up to touch the point where the lines of the sisal rope disappeared under the Amazon's vaginal lips. Parting the lips, he hooked down the lines to clear the entrance into the vagina.

"My my, you're already so wet." the man said, laughing.

Wonder Woman felt the hot flashes of humiliation on her cheeks, but she could only struggle weakly in protest as any aggressive movement on her part meant that her sensitive parts would be put under even more pressure. She felt the blunt tip of the dildo touch her vagina mouth. Then, it began to force its way into her, and up her tract.

"MMMMMMMMPH! MMMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman screamed into her gag as the intruder advanced deep into her. Then it stopped. For a moment, she hung in her suspension, panting, trying to adjust to the sensation of the intruder within her. Then she felt the man pull the lines of her crotch rope back into place under the dildo. When the man released the lines, they pushed up into her crotch again, pushing the dildo even deeper into her.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman grunted into her gag again.

"One last thing." the man said as he walked.

Great Hera! What else is he going to do to me? Wonder Woman moaned as she tried to follow him with her eyes. When the man came back, she saw that he was holding a black latex object in his hands. When he spread it open, she saw that it was a hood, like the sort that now covered Catwoman's and Batgirl's heads, except that this one covered only the top part of the head and had a chin-strap to hold it in place. There were also no eye holes on this hood. The man pulled the opening of the hood wider and placed it over Wonder Woman's head. She felt the heavy aroma of rubber as the hood came down over her eyes. Then, it was snapped in place over her eyes, cutting off any light from her eyes. She felt the chin-strap being pulled down and snapped over her chin. There was now no way the hood would come off her head, leaving the captive in complete darkness. Not only that, Wonder Woman found that she had also been plunged into complete silence. The thickness of the rubber over her ears was enough to keep out any sound.

The total darkness and silence had an insidious effect. Having most of her senses cut-off, Wonder Woman's mind became focused upon the sensations of the ropes binding her, kneading her breasts and her crotch. It make her even more aware of how her body was responding to her bondage, to the huge dildo now residing within her. Then, without warning, the dildo began to vibrate within, sending powerful pulses up her body. It also sent the vibrations up the rope binding her crotch. She could feel the knot pressing against her clitoris begin to quake in synchronisation with the dildo.

Great Hera! Wonder Woman screamed in her mind as she felt her body beginning to climax.

Wonder Woman did not know how long she was kept in her bondage. She was kept isolated within the bondage hood from any sound or sight that could tell her the passage of time. The only events that marked the passage of time were when the dildo inserted into her suddenly spring to life. But there was no regular interval for this. The dildo would spring to life at completely random points in time, sometimes at such regular intervals that she was forced to cum and cum until she lose consciousness from mental and physical exhaustion. On others, there were long periods of quiet that left her alone with only the chafing of the ropes and her thoughts.

Wonder Woman's mind at first focused on trying to find a way to escape. However, it soon became obvious that there was no way for her to fight her way out of her bondage, bound as she was by her own unbreakable lasso. That thought soon turned to despair as her captivity in darkness and silence stretched. Then, as she began to grow hungry and thirsty, her despair turned to desperation as those bodily needs added to the other torments she had been placed in.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity in darkness and silence, Wonder Woman felt a new sensation. She felt a hand touch her bare buttock and squeezed it. Then another hand touched her right breast, and kneaded it. She would have been angered by such an affront a long time ago, but her mind, dulled and muddled by the long sensory deprivation she had been put in, wrapped itself around the new sensations. A soft moan escaped her gagged lips.

"Do you like that, slave?" came a disembodied voice in her ears. If Wonder Woman had been more clear minded, she would have realized that a pair of headphones had been implanted in her bondage helmet for her enslaver to speak to her, but her mind was far too addled by physical and mental exhaustion to fully comprehend this. Before she can stop herself, she found herself nodding.

A hand inserted itself under the lines running down her abdomen. It ran down the lines until it reached her pubic hair, then pulled the lines down and aside. The pressure of the knots on her clitoris and anus, which Wonder Woman had become so used to, was gone for the moment. The dildo began to slip out, pulled by gravity and sliding along her lubricated tract, but something caught it. Then it began to move up and down her tract. At the same time, fingers probed her clitoris hood, spreading it away from her engorged knob, and began to manipulate it.

Wonder Woman moaned as the fingers and dildo worked on her. She threshed in the ropes suspending her as pleasure rose up from underneath her. She tilted her head back and shook it from side to side, the tail of black hair running out from the back of her bondage helmet shaking like the ponytail of a horse.

Then, without warning, the fingers probing her were withdrawn. The dildo was pulled out, leaving Wonder Woman feeling empty, and the lines were not restored to their original position, pressing against her clitoris and anus. There was nothing to pressure her now, except for the bite of the rope on her breasts. After having built up a full head of steam, there was nothing to let her cum. She shook in frustration, but there was no response. She was left in darkness and isolation once more.

The next stretch of sensory deprivation was even more unbearable than before. Wonder Woman lacked even the dildo within her, or the knots grinding into her clit and anus, to provide her with the intense pleasure of bondage sex. The kneading of her breasts by the rough rope could not make up for the emptiness inside of her loin. The darkness and silence became even more empty and time seemed to stretch on and on forever. Her mind became even more incoherent. It was like the withdrawal symptoms felt by drug addicts having to go without their drugs.

SMACK!

The pain shot up Wonder Woman's spine from her buttocks. The Amazon was jarred awake from her stupor.

SMACK!

A second shot of pain landed on her buttocks, a thin lash landing across both her firm round buttocks. Dully, she realized that she was being whipped. She rolled her head at that sensation. It was pain, yes, but she was savouring it like fine wine as a new sensation.

Then, she felt the blunt tip of a dildo at the gates of her vagina. It entered the cave and moved steadily up into her. It felt bigger and longer than the one that had been put in her before, and it advanced deep into her loin. She moaned at the sensation of her vagina wall being stretched painfully by the girth of the monster and the pleasure of the ribbed surface of the dildo gliding over her sensory starved vagina wall. Then the lines were replaced over her crotch, restoring the knots once more onto her clitoris and her anus. These added to her heightened pleasure as she felt herself being rubbed once more in those spots. Then, finally, the dildo jumped to life in powerful pulses, sending her into a frenzy of threshing and writhing in her rope harness.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman moaned into her ball gag as a third strike landed on her buttocks, followed closely by a fourth, a fifth, a sixth...

Wonder Woman lost count as she felt herself cum. She moaned, threw her head back and shook her head as she felt the intoxicating brew of pain and pleasure mixed together. It's like feeding wine to a hungry man. It instantly made her mind drunk.

"That's it slut, that's what you are. You're nothing but a pain whore." a disembodied voice in her ears told Wonder Woman as she shook with pressure as yet more blows landed on her buttocks.

No! No! No! Wonder Woman screamed into her head for a moment when her mind cleared to realize in horror as to how her body was responding to the treatment, to the abuse. She was a bound and gagged slave being forced to cum against her will, being forced to be pleasured by her bondage and humiliation, enjoying her pain. She felt a powerful surge of humiliation at the thought of how she must looked to her captors.

YES! YESSS! YEEESSSSS! Wonder Woman thought the next instant as she felt another surge of pleasure whelm up from her nether regions up to her mind as another powerful orgasm shook her, even as more blows landed on her buttocks. She could no longer tell them apart any more, the pleasure and the pain. They were all intermixed, and she was savouring both of them together. She had never felt anything like this before. Her Amazon existence had been an austere one, almost like a nunnery. When she went into the world of men, and was first exposed to the corruption of sex, she had resisted it mightily, never giving in to her lust even though she had felt herself powerfully attracted to men like Superman and Batman. But now ... now she was a slave being forced to enjoy herself, and something deep within herself was responding to it.

"That's it slave. Enjoy it. Let go of yourself. You know you like this." the voice in her head kept repeating itself as Wonder Woman shook once more with pressure. Then, she lost consciousness from the intoxicating mixture of pleasure and the pain.

Worse for Wonder Woman, this treatment became a routine for ... Wonder Woman did not know how long it lasted. Her blindfolded existence denied her any knowledge of passing time. Only the whipping and cumming sessions she was forced to subject to come to mark the passage of time. Otherwise, there was nothing but darkness and silence – and hunger and thirst.

Wonder Woman was soon suffering mightily from the latter. As an Amazon and as Wonder Woman endowed with the powers of the gods, she had prodigious endurance and stamina, but her prolonged captivity and torments were pushing even her high limits. She was becoming weaker and weaker as she became increasingly dehydrated and exhausted from her own juicing sessions. This weakening, in turn, added to her increasing delirium, further unhinging her mind from her former reality towards one oriented around the intense sensations of pleasure of pain, given to her so intermittently. Finally, Wonder Woman reached a stage in which she could barely struggle against her captors or even respond with rapture to her own abuse.

Wonder Woman awoke after having fallen unconscious for the umpteenth time to a slackening of the pressures around her breasts and crotch. These were unfamiliar feelings to her now, after her prolonged bondage session. She realized dimly that she had now been lowered to the floor, such that she was kneeling. The lines tying her folded legs to her bound breasts were stretched taut, squeezing her breasts, and forcing her to bend over submissively, with her head bow. In any case, she was too weakened to lift her head up.

Wonder Woman felt a hand pull the chin strap of her latex bondage helmet, and pull it down before lifting it forward and up. The latex helmet stuck to her head for a brief moment before it was ripped off. Cool air blasted against her face, as beads of perspiration that had accumulated on her forehead and eye sockets during her prolonged captivity began to flow down her cheeks. The part of her black hair that had been under the helmet was wet and flattened against her head.

"Look at me, slave!" came a distant command. It sounded strange to Wonder Woman after having been used to hearing commands from the earphones in her helmet. She found herself responding automatically to the command, her eyes having some difficulty focusing on the man after having spent so long in darkness. She also had to lift her head up, which was difficult in her weakened condition. She found herself looking at the man in the leg brace. He was wearing another sharp dark suit, and he was looking down at her. He was carrying a large stainless steel bowl in his hand.

"Do you want some water?" the man asked.

Wonder Woman's eyes lit up at the mention of water, and she started to nod vigorously. She stopped suddenly as horror filled her as to how she was responding. She had become such a submissive. Almost ... a slave. There was brief moment of indecision as she wrestled with herself before her pride finally won. She felt a flicker of the flame of defiance within herself, and she looked up again in anger at the moment.

The man smiled thinly.

"I am impressed, slave," the man said, "Other slaves would have broken a long time ago. No matter. You'll break soon too. But obviously, it is time to take more extreme measures."

The man walked away from the kneeling Wonder Woman, who began to struggle weakly with her bonds, even though she understood that there was no way she could break her bondage. She could only wait, exhausted and weakened as the man returned with a large rubber rubber object in his hand. He walked around Wonder Woman to her back, and unbuckled the leather strap keeping the ball gag in her mouth. He then pulled the rubber ball out of her mouth. A trail of drool followed the ball as it departed. He dropped the ball-gag unceremoniously on the floor.

Before Wonder Woman could rest her jaws for a moment, he grabbed her hair once more, and yanked it back. Once again her jaws slacked. The man now lifted up the black latex object in his hand. Wonder Woman looked up to see the inside of the object. It was another latex helmet. Unlike the previous one she had been wearing, this one was a full helmet that would cover her entire head. The upper portion was skin-toned in colour, while the lower was glossy black.

There were eyeholes in this mask, as well as grommets where her nostrils would be. Where her mouth would be, she saw a thick and short hard rubber knob, moulded into the shape of a penis. It was an unrealistically large penis at least two-and-a-half inches in diameter. The tip of the penis was in fact slightly wider than that. The penis gag was shoved into her mouth unceremoniously, and the helmet pulled over her face. She felt the rubber stretch tight over her face as the man pulled the helmet together behind the back of her head. Then, there was the sound of a zip being pulled, and she felt the rubber became even more taut over her face, squeezing her flesh and pushing her jaws tight together over the penis gag in her mouth.

The man came around in front of Wonder Woman, and held up a mirror for her to see. She found herself looking at a doll face, with exaggerated black eye-lining around the eyeholes and engorged red rubber lips where her mouth should be.

"Your suspension has been altogether too comfortable," the man spoke again, "It is time to make things a little more interesting."

The man went away for the moment again, and came back with a new coil of rope, which he doubled in front of Wonder Woman. He then produced a large chromed object. It looked like a large fish hook, but the end of the hook had a large black rubber coated cone with short blisters. The man fed the looped end of the rope through the eye at the top of the hook, and used a figure of eight knot to hold it in place. He then disappeared from view again. He returned with a large bottle of clear liquid, which he squeezed over the tip of the cone with melodramatic gestures, like a magician. He then rubbed the viscous liquid over the cone. When he was done, he disappeared from view again. He seemed to reach up with the line, and feed it through an eyebolt in the ceiling of the cell, just behind the point where Wonder Woman had been suspended from for so long.

Wonder Woman tried to twist her head to see what was happening. Before she could turn her head around, she felt the man stood astride her behind her back, and leaned forward to pull up her bound arms behind her, using the ropes binding her arms as a handle. As he did so, she felt her bound body tilt forward, then downwards until she was resting on her upper chest, with her knee caps resting on the floor, propping her bound legs up. This left her buttocks raised high up into the air. The man now loosened the lines running up her spine from the small of her back, then loosened the knot binding the crotch lines to the waist lines. She felt the pressure being relieved on her clitoris and her anus. The dildo inside of her slid out partly, but was restrained from falling out of her vagina by the lines.

In a flash, Wonder Woman knew what was about to happen. She knew what a butt-plug was, and she clinched her asshole in a vain attempt to resist the intruder. She felt the slippery tip of the cone touch her sphincter. Then, the tip penetrated her.

"MMMMMMPPPH!" Wonder Woman moaned as the pain went up her body, shaking her. She felt the cone being withdrawn a bit, then it was thrust in again, this time a bit deeper. She shuddered as she felt the blisters of the cone rubbed against the ring of her asshole. The cone was withdrawn once more, and after a moment's pause, it was rammed home all the way.

"MMMMMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman screamed into her gag as she felt as if her sphincter was being torn apart. But the asshole closed over the base of the cone, drawing the hook deep into her rectum, and the pain began to subside, leaving her panting.

There was another moment's pause, and then Wonder Woman felt the lines around her breasts begin to tighten again. Then she felt herself hauled up bodily until she was standing on her knee-caps, her big breasts squashed by the lines binding her torso. Then, she felt move movement behind her, and began to feel a drag on her asshole. She realized that the hook inside of her was being lifted up. She moaned as she felt her sphincter being stretched again, but there was nothing she could do as her butt was being dragged back as the man pulled down on the other end of the rope tied to the hook.

"MMMMMMMMPHHH!" Wonder Woman moaned again as the dreaded moment her legs were lifted off the ground came, and her weight came to rest on the lines binding her torso and – now – the hook in her butt. Her butt kept being pulled upwards, like a fish on a hook until her torso was horizontal to the ground, with her frog-tied legs pointing downwards and sideways on either side of her hips. The man tied the rope off at this point, leaving Wonder Woman in this most uncomfortable position. Then, as if this was not enough, she felt movement in the lines binding her waist. The man was re-arranging the knots on the lines. Then, she felt the crotch lines being tightened against her vulva gain, and once again, the pressure on her clitoris was restored. The other knot now rested on the base of the dildo, and it forced the rubber object deep into her vagina tract. She could only emit an almost inaudible moan at the sensation. The man split the lines now and fed them under the waist lines, one each over her hips. Then he tied the lines to the waist lines at her hips to secure the lines in place. When he came around before her again, she found that her head was now roughly at his crotch level. She guessed that this arrangement was probably intentional.

The man now knelt down next to her. He pulled up the black portion of the helmet over the sides and back of her head, and Wonder Woman realized that the black portion was not the neck of the helmet. Instead, it constituted a second layer of the helmet over her head. The man began to pull up on a zip that started at her chin, and the black portion began to tighten over her head. As the zip ran up the point of her chin, over her mouth and then her nose, it closed over her eyes, and once again plunged her into silence and darkness. The zip ended only at the top of her head, and Wonder Woman felt even more isolated, if this was possible, then before, suspended in an even more fiendish suspension.

There was a moment's pause, and then, the dildo inserted into Wonder Woman roared to life again, sending the captive once again into spasms.

"How are we today?"

Wonder Woman's mind swam up from its stupor at the voice. It had now deteriorated so badly that she could barely focus on the voice. Since the man altered the arrangement of her bondage, she had been subjected to another prolonged period of sensory deprivation, broken only by even more abusive treatments. She was now not only whipped on her buttocks, but on her breasts, now dangling below her. Each time she was whipped, the dildo inside of her would come to life in powerful pulses, ending her to ecstasy. With the hook embedded deep in her, the dildo seemed to be an even larger presence inside of her and its vibrations seemed to shake her even more. It did not help that her hunger and thirst was even worse now, and they weakened her will and body even more.

Wonder Woman felt the zip being pulled down and the black rubber petals of the second layer of her bondage helmet parted to allow her sight again. She found herself looking down at the floor. A hand cupped her chin, and lifted up her head.

It was the man again. He was holding a bottle in his hand. Water! Her eyes widened at the sight of the content in the bottle.

"Do you want a drink?" the man asked. Wonder Woman nodded vigorously, no hesitation this time. The man smiled as he put aside the bottle. He knelt down and parted the rubber lips on the rubber helmet on Wonder Woman's head. This reviewed the round base of the gag. It had checker knurling around its base. He gripped the base and began to turn. Wonder Woman felt the penis gag turn in her mouth, and then it was withdrawn from her aching jaws. The man disappeared from view for a while, then he returned with a new object. Wonder Woman looked up to see that it was a large ring, coated with rubber, from which two leather straps sprung.

"Open your mouth!" the man barked a command. Wonder Woman opened her mouth and the man placed the rings between her jaws. This propped them open. He pulled the straps around her head, and then buckled them together behind her head. Now he stood up in front of Wonder Woman, and unbuckled his belt. He unzipped his pants and pulled down his briefs. His penis was already erecting, a long and hard pole of flesh pointing its tip at her mouth.

"Give me a blow job." the man said simply.

Wonder Woman was stunned. She felt a flicker of defiance inside of her again. The act the man commanded of her repulsed her. She did not want to have the man's cock in her mouth. But her eyes darted to the bottle of water now resting on top of the chest of drawers at the corner, and she felt her will wilt away. Reluctantly, she stretched her neck such that her head moved towards the mna's penis.

The man grabbed Wonder Woman's head, and shoved his penis into her mouth. It tasted salty in her mouth and tentatively she flicker her tongue against it.

"Get on with it, slave!" the man commanded.

Wonder Woman began to lick the penis with a vengeance. She felt the warm flash throb inside of her mouth, against her tongue as she worked the tongue. The man began to thrust his hips, pumping his penis into her mouth, rocking her in her suspended bondage as well. The dildo within her suddenly came to life, sending her own body into a frenzy.

Wonder Woman worked harder and harder with her tongue as she felt her own body begin to respond to the vibrations of the dildo. Then, suddenly, the man ejaculated, spraying sperm deep into her mouth. At almost the next instant, Wonder Woman felt her own body spasm as she reached a dry climax.

"Good. I have no idea you're so good at this, slave." the man said smiling as he withdrew his limp penis from Wonder Woman's mouth. He pulled up his pants again, before unbuckling the ring-gag from Wonder Woman's mouth.

"What do you say to the gift that I've given you?" the man asked.

"Th ... thank you..."

The man gave Wonder Woman a sharp slap across her mouth. The slap stung and stunned her.

"Thank you, WHAT?" the man roared.

"Thank you ... master." Wonder Woman said, then hung her head in shame.

"Good." the man said as he went over to the drawers. He returned with the bottle. It was shaped like a baby bottle, with a rubber nipple at the other end. He placed the nipple against her lips and squeezed. A jet of sweet tasting liquid entered her mouth, and she began to drink eagerly.

"That's it slave, drink it all in. It's not only drink but also water." the man said as Wonder Woman drink eagerly, drawing mouthfuls of the liquid, which mixed with the sperm in her mouth before entering into her growling stomach. Very quickly, the bottle was emptied. The man put the bottle aside, and took the dildo gag again, and returned it into her mouth. Wonder Woman did not even resist as he pushed into place and screwed it back into place between the rubber lips of her mouth. Then the second layer of her helmet was zipped up again, returning her once more into sensory deprivation.

Over the next few days – at least, Wonder Woman thought it was days, her sense of time being completely non-existent by now – the man would return, and feed her. Always, he would demand that she gave him a blow-job, which she did with less and less reluctance now. The liquid was never enough to satisfy her hunger, but at least it reduced the growling and emptiness. But it soon brought a new edge to her humiliation. Soon, her bladder began to feel and she had to pee. At first she tried to hold it in, but soon, she had no choice but to beg the man to let her pee. The man laughed at this. He untied the lines binding her crotch, and then told her to pee from where she was. She would not be allowed any respite from her suspension for this.

Wonder Woman was at first too embarrassed to do anything, but soon, she had no choice but to pee from where she was, her urine dripping down from her crotch onto the concrete floor. Then the man wiped her off, before tying the lines taut in place again.

Wonder Woman's captivity stretched.

There was a new variation to the routine after a while. The penis gag in her mouth was replaced by a new one that had a tube running through its centre. This tube was inserted through a hole in the second layer of the helmet. Now, a bottle could be hooked up to the penis gag in her mouth even without the second layer being opened. She could feed even within her sensory deprivation.

When she was hooked up to the bottle, she had to work the penis gag with her tongue and mouth, sucking on it to force the liquid into her mouth. She knew that she was being trained to suck a cock properly, but there was nothing she could do about it. And when she sucked on the cock, Wonder Woman would always be fucked from behind. She did not know by whom, but there would always be a real penis penetrating her vagina from behind as she sucked and fed.

Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Wonder Woman knew that she was slowly but surely being turned into nothing more than a sex slave, but that thought became less and less relevant to her, and soon disappeared altogether as any notion of free will was forgotten in the emptiness of her sensory deprivation and the intense fulfilment to be found in her sexual abuse.

Wonder Woman had faced many enemies before in her former life as Wonder Woman. She had been beaten up, burnt, shot, amongst other forms of physical abuse, but this was something different. Her captor was attacking her psyche. And he has found the weak link in her armour. In truth, even before her capture and captivity in darkness and silence, she had been isolated. She might save the world time and time again, and be the subject of adulation and respect, but that only came as a heavy responsibility as she had to maintain and uphold an ideal image as a representative of the Amazon race.

Her own rigid warrior code had made it impossible for her to be intimate with men, any men, even those she dimmed worthy of her. But Wonder Woman has also human emotions, and that rigidity had meant a loneliness that left a deep and unsuspected craving within of her.

Her slaver had tapped into that carving within her, that yearning to belong to someone. Her sensory deprivation, captivity and merciless sexual abuse had only make her even more hungry to be owned, to become nothing more than a sex object, with no responsibility to save the world and no responsibility to be a noble warriors.

But as a slave, she could be a nobody, a no one, only valued for her body, for the pleasures she could provide. She was valued for what she truly was, a sex object, with no responsibility for her to meet any expectations, maintain any image. She could just be a toy.

In a topsy-turvy sense, her slavery had become her liberation.

Wonder Woman moaned again as this realization struck her, this time a moan of contentment as yet another wave of orgasm hit her.

Wonder Woman hung in her suspension for a long period of time, enduring her enforced solitude and sensory deprivation. Only her frequent rapes and whippings on her breasts and buttocks broke her captivity, and she relished the mixtures of pain and pleasure like a man lost in the desert would relish drinks of water.

After what seemed like months to Wonder Woman, there was finally a change in her situation. The outer layer of her latex bondage helmet was unzipped, and lowered, allowing her sight for the first time in a long while. When she could finally focus her eyes, she once again saw her captor standing before her. But she also saw a woman kneeling on the floor next to him. It was Catwoman again. Her costume had changed again. She was now wearing a skin-tone translucent latex catsuit that covered her nude body underneath. A tight latex under-bust corset girdled her slim waist, crushing it into an hour-glass figure, while at the same time lifting up her surgically enhanced breasts. Wonder Woman could see that Catwoman's nipples, like those of Batgirl, had been pierced and ringed too.

Wonder Woman could also see Catwoman's crotch. This was uncovered by a slit in the translucent catsuit. Her crotch had been shaved of any pubic hair. There was a ring hanging down between her long spread legs, roughly where her clitoris hood would be. It was quite a large ring and looked heavy. A leash had been clipped to that ring, and it ran up to the man's hands.

Catwoman's head was covered entirely by a latex bondage helmet, complete with small pointy ears, which covered her face entirely. Two brass grommets pierced the glossy black surface. This surface had been polished to such a degree that reflected the objects in the cell. A circular pattern of tiny holes on the surface where her eyes should be allowed her vision without Wonder Woman being able to look in at her eyes. Where her lips should be, there were a pair of thick wine-red rubber lips. The lips were slightly parted, and Wonder Woman could just see the red rubber ball gag the former cat burglar must be wearing underneath.

The man squatted down and unclipped the leash from Catwoman's crotch ring.

"Get up Pussy." the man ordered as he stood up and coiled the leash. Catwoman stood up gradually, and gingerly. Wonder Woman now saw that she was wearing a pair of knee-high black PVC boots. The heels were so high – perhaps as much as six inches - that they forced her to walk on a severe tip-toed posture. Wonder Woman could also have a better look at her hands now. She was wearing an elbow-length black PVC opera gloves, but these had no fingers, only a thumb. She could grip things but she could not spread her fingers, or use them for any delegate work, such as untying knots. To complete her outfit, she was wearing a tall collar made from hard black rubber polished to a glossy shine, which forced her to keep her head at a certain posture.

"Take off that helmet." the man ordered. Catwoman tip-toed over to where Wonder Woman hung, and unzipped her helmet. She then pulled the helmet off the enslaved Amazon's head. This removed the gag at the same time from Wonder Woman's mouth. Catwoman let the helmet flopped onto the ground, heavy with moisture.

"Put the dental gag in her."

Catwoman went over to the drawers. As she walked away, Wonder Woman could not help but look at her rounded buttocks swaying behind her. It looked even more round with the corset pinching her waist, and the roll of her buttocks were enhanced by the heels she wore. She retrieved a gadget from one of the drawers. It consisted of two semi-circular halves made from surgical steel, hinged at their ends. Catwoman turned and came back to Wonder Woman, treating the captive to the view of her lightly juggling breast. Catwoman grasped the wet hair of the captive, and pulled. Wonder Woman offered no resistance as she opened her slack jaws, and the other woman slipped the steel contraption into her mouth. She then grasped the winged nuts on the hinges of the contraption, and turned, producing a series of ratchet clicks. Wonder Woman felt pressure on her jaws as the two halves of the gag began to spread open, forcing her to open her mouth wider and wider. She only stopped when Wonder Woman's mouth could not open any wider.

Catwoman now went back to the drawers and came back with two long rubber tourniquets. She tied one to each end of the dental gag. Then she pulled the tourniquets back one by one, and tied their other ends to the top lines of the golden lasso binding Wonder Woman's arms. This kept Wonder Woman's head lifted up, held to the back.

"It is time to give you a shave, slave." the man explained as Catwoman now retrieved an electric shears from the drawers. Wonder Woman's eyes opened at this, but she could do little to resist as the other slave came up to her and switched on the razor. It did not take long for Catwoman to cut the long raven black locks of Wonder Woman's hair, leaving a short black buzz-cut behind as the captive writhed weakly in her suspension.

The next items Catwoman retrieved from the drawers were a shaving razor and a spray can of shaving foam. Placing the razor on Wonder Woman's back for the moment, she squeezed a lump of foam onto her hand, before spreading the white foam onto Wonder Woman's scalp. Then she took the razor, and began to systematically shave the short buzz off her head.

When she was done, Catwoman took the can of foam and the razor and disappeared from view. She felt the lines binding her loins loosen, and then fall away. Then Wonder Woman felt something wet being slapped onto her crotch, and she realized that she was being shaved in her nether regions too. This filled her with a renewed sense of humiliation, that she was being touched and shaved below, and there was nothing she could do about it. But, once again, there was little she could do as she felt the razor scrap against her crotch.

"Good. Now hose her down." the man ordered.

Wonder Woman could hear the clicks of Catwoman's heels behind her as she walked over to the side of the cell. She heard a wheel being turned, and suddenly, icy cold water hit her crotch. She bucked at the chilliness and piercing blow of the water.

"GGGGGAAAHHH!" Wonder Woman moaned into her gag. Catwoman began to spray Wonder Woman's body, playing the jet of water over her, like a man would spray water over his car. As she did so, the accumulated grime of perspiration on her body, and the dried cum and sperm on her crotch was washed away. The cut and shaved hair were also sprayed off her.

When Catwoman was done, she turned off the water, and came around to the man. She turned her back to him and crossed her wrists behind her back. The man then took out a pair of handcuffs, and placed its manacles around her wrists. Then he went around to the front, and attached the leash to her crotch ring once more, before he looped the end of the leash over a hook on the wall.

"Kneel." the man said simply. Catwoman dropped onto her knees, then sat back on her heels as the man walked to the drawers. He came back with a chromed steel piercing gun, a strip of paper sealed alcohol swabs, and a small box. He placed the gun on Wonder Woman's back, using it like a suspended table top. He opened the box and showed it to Wonder Woman.

"Here are your slave rings, slave." the man said, smiling. Wonder Woman glanced down at the rings. There were at least a dozen rings there, and they were gold-coloured and about an inch in diameter. He then placed the box on top of Wonder Woman's back before untying the tourniquets that had been holding her head up, allowing her head to drop down so that she could look back at her body.

The man tore off one of the packet of alcohol swabs, and opened it. The small of medicinal alcohol filled the cell. He bent down and brushed Wonder Woman's nipples with the swab. She watched helplessly as he took a ring and the piercing gun and held them to her right nipple. There was a sharp report, and Wonder Woman felt a dull ache in her right nipple. When the man stood up to take a second ring, Wonder Woman could see the lone gold ring on her right nipple. The sight filled her with yet more humiliation. Like the bracelets she wore as an Amazon, it was a symbol of her slavery.

When the man had ringed Wonder Woman's left nipple, he stood up and walked around to behind her crotch. She could not see what he was doing now, but he still held the piercing gun.

"You may be wondering what I'm going to do, slave. Pussy, show her your crotch." the man ordered. Catwoman obeyed, and got on all fours. She twisted and raised her buttocks until Wonder Woman could see her crotch. With a shock, she could see that both of her vagina lips had been pierced with a row of silvery rings. The large ring she had seen earlier was not actually threaded into her clitoris hood. Instead, it dangled from the end of a steel shank. This was fed through the rings on her vagina lips, pulling them into a row, one after the other, to seal the lips together. The other end of the shank had an eyehole, and a small lock dangled from it. With this arrangement, the vagina track was effectively lock shut.

Wonder Woman felt the chill of alcohol being applied over her vagina lips. Then, there was a series of cracks as the man worked on her vagina lips, ringing them like Catwoman's vulva. When he was done, the man retrieved a steel shank from the drawers like that on Catwoman, except that this was gold. He slipped it up through the rings on Wonder Woman's cunt. The dildo she had been wearing was still inserted within her, so he had to stretch her vagina lips over its base to seal it in place. When he was done, he took a small lock and fed its shank into the eyehole at its end, then clicked the lock shut.

The man now came round to the front. He took something out from his jacket pocket. It was a leather tag, like that they used to mark luggage. It had a small snap hook on one end. He attached the hook to the ring on Wonder Woman's right nipple. When he released it, she could read the print on the paper inserted behind the plastic window.

It had the printed lines, "Property of..." followed by a name. Nothing that had been done to her over the period of her captivity had shaken her so much as the sight of that label. She was no longer the mighty Amazon warrior, the princess of Paradise Island, the superheroine. She was nothing more than property. A slave.

Involuntarily, Wonder Woman felt tears well up in her eyes.

After she had been shaved and ringed, the bondage helmet was once again placed on her head, and Wonder Woman was put through another period of sensory deprivation, whipping and fucking. Her mind became more and more disoriented. Wonder Woman – in one of the increasingly rare moments of lucidity – realized that this could not just be the effect of the sensory isolation, or her prolonged captivity, or her physical and mental exhaustion. She was most probably being drugged, each time through the liquid diet she fed on. Not only did her mind became more and more disoriented, she could feel her body become hornier and hornier as days go by. Even the mere touch of a latex covered hand on her buttock now would make her moan and juice. Unfortunately, she did not have a choice but to partake of the tainted drink, for each time she was watered and fed, she was desperate for the liquid and the nourishment the drink provided.

The regime of drug, sensory deprivation, sexual torment and humiliation carried on for a long period of time until Wonder Woman could barely recall her previous identity as Wonder Woman. She was literally nothing more than a fuck slave now, as her existence was oriented around her cunt and mouth being used, and her sensitive regions being whipped and tormented. There was nothing for her to look forward to, nothing to provide her with meaning, except for these pains and pleasures.

Finally one day, Wonder Woman's bondage helmet was opened and removed again, together with the penis gag. Her mouth did not remain empty for long though as a ball-gag was shoved into her slack mouth in its place. She looked up, expecting to see the man again. Instead, she was amazed to see another man, dressed in the field gray uniform of a Second World War German SS foot soldier standing in front of her, complete with kraut helmet, SS rune collar tabs and highly polished jackboots. Her drugged mind attempted to comprehend this image but failed.

Wonder Woman could felt a pair of hands reach forward from behind and untied the lines binding her legs. They unfolded under their own weight and dangled from her body, the tip of her red and white boots touching the floor. Wonder Woman moaned as she felt the weight of her redistributed, causing the lines binding her crotch and the butt hook in her ass to dig deeper into her. She looked back to see what was happening, and saw a second guard dressed like a SS soldier standing behind her. She did not struggle as the lines of her lasso that had previously bound her legs in a frog-tie were now gathered together by the guard and used to bind her thighs together.

The guard went away for a moment, and he returned with a pair of blue panties in his hands. He knelt down behind Wonder Woman, and fed each of her booted foot into each of the leg-holes of the garment. Then he pulled the garment up her long legs up to her knees, just below where she was bound. The first guard now came around. He untied Wonder Woman's thighs, being careful to keep to her side, in case she was inclined to resistance even now. The garment was now pulled up above her long thighs to her crotch, before the lines were tied back in place around her thighs, just above her knees.

The guards loosened the rope lifting the butt hook in Wonder Woman's asshole. This allowed the captive to now stand up on her feet for the first time in a long while. Wonder Woman sucked in her breath as she felt the heavy dildo within her cunt slip down and pressed against the metal sealed lips of her vagina. The guards held her for a while as she regained her sense of balance. As they did so, one of them reached down and yanked the butt-hook unceremoniously out of her asshole. As she had not produced any shit with her liquid diet, the hook was clean.

The guards next untied the sisal rope binding her waist and crotch, relieving the familiar pressure on her crotch. Then they pulled the panties up all the way to her waist. Looking down, Wonder Woman saw that the panties resembled the bottom of her Wonder Woman costume. It was made of blue PVC and the stars on its surface were smaller and denser. The most important difference, however, was the fact that the crotch had a slit through its centre through which her naked vulva was left exposed.

After the suspension rope was untied from the sisal rope binding her breasts, the latter was untied and removed as well, leaving red welts criss-crossing Wonder Woman's body. One of the guards came up to her, and placed a red corset around her waist. Again, this resembled her bustier, but was also made of red PVC. Instead of a back zip, this one had an open-ended zip running up the front. The corset also lacked cups for her full breasts. The golden twin Ws, instead of running above her breasts, now traced the undersides of her breasts, with the centre point rising high up into her cleavage between her breasts, while the wings wrapped around up the sides of the two mounds. This arrangement proffered up her breasts, making them looked more prominent.

Finally, one of the guards took a black wig and placed it on her head. This wig had a tiara sewn to the front, with a red star in its centre. Again, this was a facsimile of a component of her costume.

The guards now attached a chain leash to the large ring at Wonder Woman's crotch, and tugged it.

"MMMMMMMPH!" Wonder Woman moaned as she took a step in the direction of the guard's pull to relieve the pressure on the rings on her vagina lips. She followed meekly as the guards led her out of her cell for the first time in what seemed like months. She found herself in a corridor with cell doors on either side. She was led down the corridor until they came to a door. The door opened and Wonder Woman found herself in another surreal environment. She saw a vanity top with a large mirror lined with bright electric bulbs.

A chair had been placed in front of the vanity top. On a closer look, Wonder Woman saw that it was bolted to the floor. It had an uncomfortable looking straight high back with a slot down its centre. It also had two arm rests that stretched high from the back to the front, where they bent down to form the front legs of the chair.

Wonder Woman was led to the chair, before she was turned and shoved into the seat. She found that the bound arms behind her back fit neatly into the slot in the back of the chair. A pair of broad leather straps bolted to the back of the chair were now pulled over her body, under her breasts, and buckled in place, pinning her into the chair. Another pair of leather straps bolted higher up to the back of the chair were pulled around her throat, and similarly buckled in place, rendering her head motionless. Finally, one of the guards reached down, and snapped a hook attached to the front edge of the seat of the chair to her crotch ring. She was very effectively bound to the chair.

When the guards were done, they stood aside. A figure now approached the bound Amazon. She was covered from head to toe in glossy black latex. Only a pair of eyeholes punctured the blackness of her body, showing a pair of dark brown eyes and just a hint of ebony skin. Over the latex catsuit that she wore, the figure wore a latex French maid's costume, with white latex ruffles on the hem of the flair skirt, the top of the scooped neckline, and the edge of the puffed sleeves. She reached out with latex covered hands to the make-up kit spread on the top of the vanity top, and set to work.

Wonder Woman watched helplessly as the latex covered woman worked. She expertly applied a heavy layer of foundation over her face, before lining her eyes thickly with black eye liners. Bright pink rogue was then applied to her cheeks, before her gagged lips were coloured with bright wine red. When she was done, Wonder Woman looked at herself. A garishly painted whore looked back at her.

This impression was reinforced when Wonder Woman was released from the chair by the guards and turned around to face a full-length mirror standing at a corner of the room. She was shocked as she looked at herself. She could hardly recognise the figure looking back at her. The costume she wore exposed all her naughty bits to public view, making her look more like a whore than an Amazon princess. Together with her make-up, she looked like a cheap street walker you could find at some seedy street corner.

The guards only let her look at herself for a moment, before she was once again led by the leash out of the room. She was now led through a set of double-doors. She found herself in a rather large room. It was set up as a studio, with black painted walls. Lights were mounted high up in the tall ceiling. Cameras were arranged in a semi-circle around a set occupying one half of the room. It looked like the interior of a dungeon, with stone walls, a small barred window high up. There was a large wooden desk to one side, and a heavy wooden chair bolted to the floor in the centre, like the one she had been placed in for her make-up.

There were several latex clad feminine figures walking around. They were all women, dressed in latex catsuits and bondage helmets, tottering on impossibly high heels. They seemed to be making some final arrangements. Some latex clad figures had already taken up position behind the cameras.

"All right, everybody get ready!" came a male voice. Wonder Woman turned to see the man who had been tormenting her sit on a high director's chair. He had a bull-horn in his hand. He turned and smiled at the captive Amazon as she was brought up to him.

"Well now, is the latest bondage porn star ready for her debut?" the man asked. Wonder Woman opened her eyes wide and she struggled a little bit, but she had become so weak that the guards easily held her.


	3. Chapter 3

Breaking Vampirella

The limousine slid up to the front of the museum, and the valet stepped smartly forward to open the car door. A tall blond woman emerged from the car, and instantly all eyes were upon her. In her black PVC high-heeled boots, she was easily the tallest woman present. Her heavily stacked curvaceous body was covered in a small halter-top dress in deep maroon that hugged her figure tightly, showing off her firm buttocks, her narrow waist and her full bosom. As she walked up the long red carpet leading into the grey granite building, her body swayed ever so slightly to the motion of her walk, almost like the way a lion moves, the body seemingly relaxed and yet ever ready to pounce upon her prey.

As the woman entered the main exhibition hall of the Ancient Egypt exhibition, which had been turned into a ballroom for this fund raising night, the crowd seemed to part before her as she walked through the hall purposefully, almost as if she was aiming for someone. The object of her aim quickly became obvious as she came to a corner of the hall, near the main attraction of the exhition, a four thousand year old mummy of the Queen Nefertiti, which was dominated by a dark gentlemen clad in an impeccably white suit. He was tall, but not quite as tall as the woman, but his broad shoulders implied strength hidden by the suit. His face was Arabic in feature and finely chiselled with sharp upraised cheekbones and a sharp nose. He wore a beard and a moustache, both neatly combed. His black hair was sleek and neatly combed back. The way he talked showed that he was used to being in control and obeyed.

As if on cue, the man turned and rested his eyes on the new arrival. His eyes instantly lit up with a sort of savage thirst that the woman found, for a moment, disconcerting, as if he could see right through her. She recovered her poise and walked right up to him, and introduced herself. He returned the courtesy, and did not mention the fact that he was a Prince from a wealthy Gulf state, a fixture in the social scene in New York, and the generous sponsor of the exhibition. He left those bits up to his companion, the ever so accommodating and fawning CEO of the museum.

They danced, the Prince and the woman, all night, and as the evening wore on, and the other guests got more and more drunk, he had quietly proposed that they retire to the rear of the museum, where his host had so graciously prepared a room for use by the VIP. She had agreed and followed him. As they left the hall, a group of men followed at a discreet distance, forming a circle around the Prince. The bodyguards. But when they got to the room, they stayed outside, and only the Prince and the woman stepped in.

"Would you like more champagne?" the Prince asked, as he walked over to a drink cabinet.

"No thank you." The woman said, walking up towards the Prince. Her hips swayed with each move. She reached down to the hem of her dress, gripped it with both her hands, and lifted the hem up and over her head, and pulled the dress off her body, flinging it aside, exposing the fact that she wore a red PVC full body thong with a white collar underneath.

"Vampirella." The Prince said calmly as he lifted his champagne glass up to his lips.

Vampirella tore off the blond wig, and continued to walk towards the man, "You know my name then."

"Of course," the Prince said, backing away slowly but not in panic, "I paid good money for you to that foolish American. But I heard that he had met an unfortunate end. How did you track me down?"

"It was easy." Vampirella said, eyeing the Prince as he backed up against a wall, "All your emails to him were on the Cowboy's laptop. I simply asked someone I rescued for a favour to trace it back to you. And now, I'm going to tear you apart for what you had the Cowboy do to me."

The Prince laughed out loud at this, which stopped Vampirella for a moment. Suddenly, the wall behind the Prince seemed to give way to reveal a door. In a flash, the man disappeared through the doorway. Vampirella leapt forward quickly, determined not to let the man escape. She charged through the doorway into the darkness of the room next door.

Vampirella realised that it was a trap almost immediately as a nearly invisible line tripped her. She fell forward, and before she could regain her balance, she dropped face first into onto the floor. She landed on her hands and knees, and almost immediately felt a painful bite on her breasts. She looked down and saw to her horror that she had landed on top of several small sleek black snakes, all with wide open mouths and venom dripping from their sharp fangs. Several of them had immediately attacked her in self-defence. She got up to her feet and kicked the snakes aside, but the damage had already been done. Glancing down, she could see several pairs of holes on her mounds. She could feel the venom from the snake bites rushing through her body. She took a few steps, and fell onto her hands and knees, her body becoming numb as the toxin from the bits began to paralyze her.

"These are Arabian Desert Asps." A voice said. Vampirella raised her head with difficulty to see the Prince come up to her. She saw several men with him, carrying handles with small loops at their ends. These men began to round up the snakes until they have cleared a path for the Prince. He knelt down in front of her and lifted up her chin with his hand. "Not that poisonous as far as snakes go, but what I need is their unique venom that paralyzes rather than kills."

Vampirella tried to rise, tried to strike out at the man, but her arms barely obeyed her, and she only succeeded in unbalancing herself. She tumbled onto her side, her hair cascading down around her face. She tried to move again, but her body was almost completely unresponsive to her commands now.

"I had not thought it possible, that such a simple trap as a rope across the doorway can ensnare a creature as powerful and beautiful as yourself." The man said, brushing the hair away from her face. He reached down and slid his smooth hand along one of her long thighs.

"You will make a very interesting addition to my collection." The man said, smiling. It was not a pleasant smile, full of sadistic pleasure.

"But first, I'll have to get you secured."

The Prince stood up and walked away from the still form of Vampirella. He drew aside a thick curtain against one wall of the room to reveal a row of lit candles which instantly lit up the room in their eerie glow. When he returned, he had a bundle of leather items in his hands. He laid them down in front of her, so that she could see them. He picked up the first item and showed it to her. It was a black corset made of stiff and thick hide, reinforced at regular intervals by vertical bones that looked stiff and unyielding. It was opened at the back, and had a series of leather straps running down the left side of the opening, and buckles running down the right. These were securely fastened to the corset by metal rivets. The surface of the corset was polished such that it reflected, dully, the light from the flickering candles.

The Prince placed the corset around the narrow waist of the helpless vampiress, before flipping her onto her stomach. He sat down on her buttocks as he pulled the corset closed around her waist, and proceeded to buckle the straps tightly down her back. He was absolutely merciless in his task, pulling the straps as far as they could go before buckling them, forcing the corset to squeeze her torso tightly and firmly. Even though Vampirella would not be able to feel it now, the bones of the corset dug into her flesh, forcing them into compliance with the unnaturally narrow shape of the corset. When the Prince flipped her onto her back to admire his handiwork, he was satisfied to observe how the corset had effectively made her waist even more slender, her rounded hips more prominent, and how her bosom was lifted up by the upsweep of the corset.

The Prince now took up an item that resembled the black corset crushing Vampirella's waist, with the same buckled-up back and bones inserted at intervals from top to bottom to give its side a pronounced inward curve. But it was far too small to be a corset for the waist. Vampirella realised that it was a collar when the man lifted up her head, brushed her long raven black hair away from her neck, and encased her swan like neck with the 'corset'. It was long enough to cover her neck entirely. The man laced up the back to fit the collar snugly around her neck, and she could feel the shape of the collar forcing her head to tilt up.

The Prince now took up a pair of long leather sleeves. These were made of the lighter material than the items now worn by the captive Vampirella, to allow them to fold, but they ended in mittens made from the same stiff and unyielding material as the corset and collar. He pulled one sleeve up each of Vampirella's arms, and secured the sleeves in place with the small straps that closed the sleeves just under her arm pits. This effectively trapped her hands inside the hard casing of the hide mittens, rendering them useless to grasp anything.

The Prince was not done yet. There was a pair of thick leather manacles secured to the top of the corset, under each of her armpits. He encircled and imprisoned each of her upper arms in one of the manacles, and buckled them tightly. This trapped her arms against her side. He then folded up each of her arms over her chest, just above her breasts. In this position, her wrists crossed in front of her, and he used a leather strap to secure them together. This leather strap had a D-ring on it, and he used a double-ended snap hook to secure this D-ring to a similar ring secured to the front of the collar around the vampiress' neck. This kept her arms crossed in front of her.

The Prince now picked up a large sheath made of the same black hide as the corset, with the same polished surface. The sheath was tapered in shape with a laced-up back with an opening on each end. There were belts bolted over each opening. The length of the sheath betrayed its purpose, as the man slid the sleeve up her long slender legs. It came up to almost her buttocks in the back. He then laced up the sleeve tightly around her legs. It was a long process but by the end, he had meshed both her legs tightly together. The process was complete when he buckled the belts on each end of the sheath, one of which was around her upper thighs, just under her buttocks, and the other around her ankles, tightly. The fitting was so snug around her legs that there was no danger of it sliding down, but to eliminate any possibility of that happening there were a series of leather straps that were riveted to the top of the sheath, which could be pulled up to the hem of the corset, where a series of buckles had been waiting. The Prince secured each of the straps so tightly that they dug into the soft flesh around her buttocks and hips.

The Prince now took up the last item. It was a leather helmet with a full face mask with an opening in the back. It had two holes for the eyes, but lacked any hole for the mouth. Instead, situated over where the mouth should be was a large but stubby rubber dildo, shaped liked an oversized penis. The man pulled back the hair of Vampirella, and placed the dildo into her parted mouth. He then slipped the rest of the leather helmet over her head and then laced it up tightly around her. When he was done, the head of the prisoner had been obscured and in its place was a leather covered head with a pony tail of hair emerging from the back.

"Comfortable?" the Prince mocked when he was done. He stood over Vampirella, almost entirely encased now in polished leather. She was beginning to regain some use of her body, and she was struggling weakly with her bondage. The stiffness of the hide was such that she could hardly move.

Satisfied with his handiwork, the Prince picked up a small wooden box. He opened it and showed its content to Vampirella. Two large, oversized dildos sat on the soft cushion at the bottom of the box. Both were shaped like penises and made from soft rubber. One was short and stubby, with a flanged bottom, obviously a butt-plug, and the other was more slender but much longer. There was also a sheath of lubricants in the box. The man picked up the butt plug first and lubricated it generously. He turned Vampirella onto her side, and folded up her body, so that her butt was pointed at him. He pushed aside the crotch of her red PVC costume, and used his lubricant stained fingers to smear the hole of her anus. Once it was sufficiently lubricated, he placed the fat tip of the butt-plug against her asshole and shoved it into her ass. Even through her venom dulled senses, Vampirella could feel the shock of the blow in her ass rushing up her spine, and she moaned into her gag.

The Prince smiled in his evil way again, and picked up the second dildo, and applied lubricant to its long, ribbed shank. He made sure every inch of it was covered with lubricant before turning his attention to Vampirella's exposed vulva. Using his smeared fingers, he parted the pink vulva lips of the vampiress, and pushed his fingers into the tunnel of her vagina, bringing another moan to the lips of the raven haired captive as he twisted his fingers against her vagina wall, lubricating it. He noted to his surprise, as he did so, that Vampirella's clitoris was slowly beginning to engorge.

"Ahh! I see, so the Cowboy was not a complete failure after all. He did train you to respond to bondage. Or is this your true nature right from the beginning?" the Prince asked, in a voice loud enough to penetrate the thick material of her bondage helmet. Underneath the leather, Vampirella's face flushed with humiliation, but she knew that her captor was right, for she could feel her body responding to her strict bondage, to the butt plug in her ass, and to the fingers in her vagina. She almost cummed when the man placed the tip of the dildo against her vulva lips, and then shoved it home, all the way, up into her vagina. The man had then replaced the crotch of her costume over her nether region, holding the two dildos in place within her.

"How do you like to have dildos in your holes? Are enjoying yourself, my little slut?" the Prince mocked. Vampirella could only try to shake her head as her only means of her protest, but discovered to her disappointment that even this form of expression had been taken away from her by the strict posture collar around her neck.

The Prince clapped his hands twice, and two men appeared in the room from a side door.

"Bring her into the preparation room." The Prince said. The two men bowed, and picked up the bound Vampirella, who was now struggling ferociously in her bondage. She knew it was futile, as she was still too weak from the snake venom, and from the strong leather binding her, but she felt obligated to try, to show that she had not been broken yet. Or perhaps it was because she loved the sensation that came from how her struggles cause the butt-plug and dildo in her ass and cunt to wriggle inside her, or how her breasts felt as they rubbed against the corset around her waist. She did not know which was which, and was afraid to admit the latter might be the true answer. She was afraid that she had indeed been turned into a bondage nympho during her slavery with the Cowboy.

The two men carried Vampirella into the room next door. This room was richly decorated by drawings on the wall that imitated the fresco found in the ancient Egyptian tombs. They brought her to a spot where a long and narrow plank rested between two sawhorses. They placed her onto the plank. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see more men coming into the room. They were carrying rolls of bandages, carefully stained to make them look ancient. They began to wrap the captive Vampirella up and down her body, around both her body and the plank she was bound to. When they were done with her body, they took smaller rolls of bandages and continued with the head, again making sure that her head was securely bound to the plank under her. When they were done, she could not move her head at all. She tried to move the rest of her body, but found that the bandages were embracing her so tightly that she was well and truly secured to the plank, making her body completely motionless.

The men had been careful to wrap only a layer over Vampirella's nose, to allow her to breathe, and they had not wrap her eyes as yet. Instead, they lifted her off the sawhorses, and carried her to a corner of the room where a large mirror had been placed. They put her down in front of it and lifted her up to a standing position to let her see how effectively bound she was. She had to admit that she looked exactly like a mummy. Then she was carried to a corner of the room where an empty sarcophagus stood against a wall.

"Put her inside." The Prince ordered. The men turned Vampirella around and placed her carefully into the sarcophagus. The coffin fitted the vampiress snugly, adding any layer of security to prevent any movement. She whimpered into her gag, but no sound escaped her through the helmet nor through the folds of cloth over her mouth. One last layer of cloth was now placed over her eyes, completely covering them, but she could still see through the cloth. She soon found that there was a purpose to this, as the men made a deliberate show of picking up the lid of the sarcophagus. She could see that the top of the lid was carved to resembled the shape of a woman with an Egyptian headdress and costume. The face was amazingly life-like, and she realized with a shock that it was her face that she was looking at, perfectly frozen. She was being entombed within a sarcophagus made explicitly for her.

"MMMMMMMMMMPH!" Vampirella screamed into her gag as the lid was turned around and fitted to the coffin she had been placed in. She struggled and cried, but her body did not move a bit, nor any sound escaped her. She was as good as a living corpse, about to be buried alive in her own coffin.

The lid was closed over Vampirella, and all sound and light were shut out, sealing her in total silence and darkness. Something primordial inside her snapped, and she screamed and screamed inside her coffin.

The darkness and silence that embraced Vampirella so tightly seemed to last forever. After fighting down her initial panic, she realized that there must be some form of ventilation system built into the lid, for she could breathe normally. But this did not change the fact that she had been placed in an environment of total sensory deprivation, tightly cocooned in strict bondage and placed in a tight coffin. The only thing she could feel was the sarcophagus being moved. It was obvious that she was being transported somewhere. Otherwise, her environment was completely sterile. Being the untamed creature that she was, who found even the tiny dress she had worn to the museum confining and chose to walk about in a costume that was barely more than a bikini, this was total confinement was pure agony for her. She could feel her mind slipping away from sanity. Wild and random thoughts popped into her head, haunting her, as emotions of anger alternated with those of utter despair and helplessness. Faces of enemies and friends swam through her mind, provoking in her feelings of guilt for those she had let down, and hatred of those that had tormented her.

It was almost welcome when the butt-plug in Vampirella's ass and the dildo in her cunt suddenly came alive, seemingly at exactly the right point in time when her mind was weakened by her own nightmares. The shock of the powerful sensations sent shudders up and down her body. If her body had been capable of even the minutest motion, she would have undulated to the powerful pulse of the intruders in her lower tracts. As it was, all she could do was to endure the assaults on her senses. Indeed, her mind latched desperately onto the overwhelming sensations that came from her sensitive lower region, and she could feel her body beginning to respond erotically to the vibrations, with her nipples hardening against the fabric of her costume, and her clitoris becoming more sensitive. Then, just as suddenly as the vibrations started, they stopped, leaving her in deep frustration.

Vampirella tried to squeeze her legs together more tightly, to try to inch the dildo in her cunt up further into her, succeeding only in manipulating it slightly inside herself, to relieve the powerful tension that had been built into her, but to no avail. Silence and darkness returned to dominate her world, and once more an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia flooded her psyche as she struggled with her bondage. After the powerful sensations of the vibrations inside her, the bondage became even more unendurable.

Vampirella's life seemed to melt into cycles of this despair and near ecstasy as the vibrations would start and end suddenly for periods of time. They seem to come at random intervals so that she could not predict them. When they come, they flooded her senses, only to dump her back into the abyss of a terrifying bondage without warning. This was surely some form of cruel torture, designed to drive her towards the edge of insanity. Indeed, she was unable to focus her mind on anything but the alternating feeling of claustrophobia and the insufferable sensation of want built up within her body. She did not knew what was worse, the feeling of unsatisfied want inside her body from the dildo and butt-plug, or the total sensory deprivation of her bondage.

What was worse was the random intervals of powerful vibrations completely disrupted any attempt by Vampirella's body to rest. She would be rudely awoken by the powerful force within her body as the vibrators start, driving her senses towards a sensual peak. This lack of rest reinforced the effect of the sensory deprivation and the shock of the vibrations within her, helping to weaken the will of the captive vampiress.

Finally, when the lid of the sarcophagus was pried open, and light and sound flooded into Vampirella's dark and silent prison, her senses were overwhelmed and she could barely even form the thought of resistance. She felt herself lifted out of the sarcophagus and the bandages binding her to the plank cut to free her from the cocoon. As the cloth bandages fell away, her body was partially liberated in that she could now bend her body and legs to a limited degree. She shamelessly used this opportunity to begin to undulate her body to try to cum.

"Look at the slut." Came a sneer. The voice of the Prince. Vampirella somehow registered the voice, and the insult, but she did not care.

"Take the dildo out of her cunt." Came a command.

Powerful hands grabbed Vampirella and placed her into a kneeling position. Her body was forced forward until her face almost met the ground. She felt the crotch of her costume being pulled aside, and the cool air touching her vulva brought a great relief to her. The dildo was pulled out unceremoniously away from her, and she felt her body tremble from the sensation of the withdrawal. She knew that she had cummed as she felt viscous liquid tickle out of her cunt and down her crotch.

"See how easily she cums? Obviously she loves her bondage." The voice of the Prince said. Vampirella did not care, as she revelled in the sensation of relief. She did not respond even when she heard the sound of a pair of pants being unzipped, and she felt warm flesh probe her vulva lips. Indeed, she moved her hips as the rod of warm and firm flesh ram into her. It felt larger and warmer than any she had felt before.

"Mmmmm..." the vampiress moaned as the penis move up and down her tract, and her body trembled a second time as she orgased and cummed again.

"My, my, you cum so easily." The Prince mocked the captive Vampirella. She did not care as she continued to move her hips to the get the maximum length of her captor's penis into her body. Finally, he ejaculated into her, and she felt her body slump down from exhaustion.

"That's enough for now." The Prince said, "Time to dress her properly."

Vampirella was lifted up to a kneeling position. It was only then that she saw that she was in a private passenger jet. The sarcophagus she had been in was next to her, and she was being held down by two large and muscular amazons. One of them was an African, and the other a blonde. Bound as she was, Vampirella could not resist the grip of the women.

"I would like you to meet two of my slaves." The Prince said, sitting down on a plush leather seat that had been swung round to face her, gesturing to the two women who were dressed in nothing but lacy bra and panties. The African was wearing a white set, while the blonde was wearing a black set.

"As I had anticipated, there was no problem smuggling you out of America at all. The State Department, being anxious to maintain good relations with my country, had been most helpful to ensure that I would experience none of that troublesome security checks. Of course, no one is going to X-ray such a delicate treasure as a newly discovered 3,000 year old mummy. If they did, they just might discover something curious about the two objects in the crotch of the mummy."

The Prince laughed at his own joke, which Vampirella did not find funny at all, especially as she was forced to bend over by the two amazons, and the long dildo inserted back into her cunt again. She quivered as the large object slid up her vagina. She almost cummed a third time as the crotch of her costume was pulled over the two objects inserted in her. When this was done, the women placed a thick belt around her upper thighs, just above her knees, and clinched it tightly in place. The belt gripped her thighs tightly, crushing her knees together. The women then began to unlace the sheath, but did so only half way up, freeing only her lower legs, but still trapping her thighs in a tight hobble.

"But, ironically, entering my own country will be a more delicate issue." The Prince said, "I really do not want my uncle, the Minister of Culture to start asking inconvenient question about a mummy being brought into the country."

Vampirella was now lifted up to a standing position by the two amazons. They took a long black robe and dropped it over her leather bound body. The robe covered her from her neck down to the toes of her boots, covering her body and her bondage completely. The women then took an opaque head veil and placed it over the head of the vampiress, covering it completely with the exception of her eyes. Clad as she was, there was absolutely no sign that she was bound and gagged underneath the robes.

The two women now placed the black clad Vampirella onto an empty seat. The dildos in her cunt and ass were driven deeper into her as she sat down, causing the captive to moan as the two women placed the seat belt over her lap and buckled it tightly. They then went to the back of the plane and put on their own versions of the black robes that they had put on the vampiress. Then they sat down as well as the plane banked in its final approach to land.

The Prince encountered no problems at all as the plane landed. Of course, they could have been picked up right at the tarmac by a limousine, but the Prince chose to walk through the sparkling new terminal of the international airport, with his three black-robed concubines following him. Perhaps it was just for the thrill of it, the fact that he was walking a bound and gagged prisoner right in the open through a crowded terminal. Perhaps he was trying to demonstrate to Vampirella just how hopeless her situation truly was.

Held tightly by the muscular arms of the two amazons, the vampiress could not resist, given that snake venom still stained her blood, weakening her. The women held her tightly by her arms under the robe, and dragged her along, as she tried to follow as best as she could with her knees hobbled together. She struggled with her leather bondage, but they refused to budge, as her eyes darted from side to side, desperately seeing if anyone noticed that she was an unwilling prisoner. No one did. All they saw were two women helping a third who appeared to be sick.

The trio were waved quickly through customs, and they came to the front of the terminal, where a black limousine was already waiting. The driver opened the rear door, and the Prince climbed in before Vampirella was shoved in, followed by the two women. When the vampiress tried to get up, the women grabbed her and forced her into a seat facing the Prince. They pulled seating belts over her bound body to hold her tightly in place. Then, the front of her veil was pulled down all the way so that they covered her eyes. When she had been blindfolded thus, she heard the click of a switch, and suddenly, the dildos in her came alive again. She shuddered and fought against her restraints as the vibrations shook her.

The drive seemed to last forever. Blindfolded as she was, the journey seemed to stretch into long hours of darkness, broken only by the vibration inside of her. When the limousine finally stopped, she was vaguely aware of the fact that she was being unstrapped from her seat, and taken out of the limousine. She was carried for a short distance before they seem to enter a building, and she was dumped unceremoniously on a hard concrete floor.

"Take off those robes." Came the Prince's command. Strong hands pulled away the black robe that had been covering her and her bondage. The bright white light in the room she was in blinded her for a moment before she saw that she was surrounded by four burly men, all clad in desert camouflage uniforms and wearing red berets. Before she could see more, they reached down, grabbed her and put her in a kneeling position before the Prince.

"Turn her into the bitch that she is." The Prince said.

Vampirella felt hands unbuckling and taking off the bondage gear that had been confining her body. They were careful, however, to leave the leather mitten sleeves on her arms, even as they took off the corset around her waist, allowing her to breathe normally. Before they unbuckled her arms from the corset, they placed leather manacles around her wrists, linked by a short chain with a strong iron ring in the centre. Similarly, they had placed leather manacles around her ankles before taking off the sheath from her legs. When they had taken it off, they took a short chain, and passed it through the iron ring in the centre of the chain linking the manacles around her wrists, and connected each end to a leather manacle around her ankles. With another chain, they connected the iron ring to the D-ring in front of her collar.

They then lifted Vampirella up to a kneeling position, and the bondage helmet was taken off her perspiration soaked head. As the penis gag was taken out of her mouth, a long strand of spit came out with it from her mouth. But no sooner had the helmet been taken off then it was replaced with another helmet. They showed it to her before they put it on. It was shaped like the head of a dog, with a long snout and upraised ears. Dark lenses covered the holes where the eyes should be. They placed the helmet around her head, and used the buckles behind her head to secure it tightly in place, leaving only her jaws and lips uncovered. To eliminate any danger of her biting, a thick strap ran under her chin to prevent her from fully opening her jaws.

The men tilted her body forward, and forced her to raise her buttocks up again. Someone took a firm grasp of the butt-plug in her ass and pulled it out. It came out with a soft but audible pop, and Vampirella screamed from the pain. The men laughed, and someone took another item and showed it to her. It was another butt-plug, but larger and longer than the one that had resided in her - she was not even sure if her anus could take something as large as that. It had a flanged base, from which a long rubber tail emerged, sweeping up into a tip. A series of leather straps emerged from the side of the flanged base to form a star pattern, no doubt to hold the butt-plug in place within her. The men laughed and joked to one another as they lubricated the monster plug and placed it in her ass hole. Much to her own surprise, her asshole opened up readily to accept the object, and she felt it slid into place until the flanged base stopped its progress. The men then pulled the straps over each of her hips to encircle her waist, and then buckled the straps tightly in place. Finally, one of the men got behind her, grabbed the front of her costume, and yanked aside the twin strips of fabric covering her breasts. The full globes dropped down and swung under her like pendulums.

"Show her the result." The Prince commanded. A large mirror was carried to a spot in front of her, to her right, and Vampirella could see herself for the first time. The helmet covering her face did make her look like a dog, and as she got up onto her hands and knees, her "tail" seemed to wag. She felt nothing but humiliation as the men around her laughed at the result. The flame of resistance flared temporarily within her and she tried to get up. However, the chains linking her wrists, ankles and neck did not allow her to rise. Realizing that all she did with her futile resistance was to cause her tail to wag, she surrendered to her humiliation and slumped to the ground.

"Put her in the kennel with the other dogs."

Vampirella was lifted up and dragged across the floor. She heard the sound of a gate swinging open, and she was dumped unceremoniously onto the bare concrete floor. The gate was shut behind her and locked.

"Well, bitch, how do you like your new home?" The Prince asked.

Vampirella got onto all fours and observed her surroundings. What she saw filled her with dismay. The cage she was in was but one in a long row. Each of the cages was constructed from chain link fences, enclosing three sides, with a chain-link gate shutting off the fourth. The cages were barely large enough for her to pad around in, being merely six feet by six feet. She also saw that she was not the only one present.

There were other occupants in other cages to either side of her. Some of them were real dogs, which seemed to ignore what was going on. But she could see at least six other creatures occupying the cages that were not canine. They were women, and each of them were as mercilessly bound and transformed into human caricatures of dogs.

As all their faces were covered with a bondage helmet resembling a dog head, she could not see any of their faces, but their skin colours showed that they were from a variety of ethnicity. Some of them were petite. Others look larger. But they all were similarly shackled such that they could not rise, and they all had a rubber plug in their ass with tails that stood up behind them. They were silently watching the new arrival through the fences of their cages. Perhaps they were recalling what had happened to them when they first arrived?

The shame of the situation hit Vampirella hard, and she sat back on her kneels, uncontrollable tears flooding her eyes.

"Yes bitch," the Prince said, forcing every once of cruelty into his voice as he spoke, "You might as well accept it, you are nothing more than a pet now."

The Prince laughed with malicious delight as he turned and left the kennel with his entourage, leaving Vampirella sobbing alone in her cage.

The sound of boots woke Vampirella up from her fitful sleep. She got onto all fours as the boots stopped in front of her kennel. The guard knelt down and pushed a metal bowl under the gate, looked at the juggling breasts of the bound vampiress with ill concealed lust, before getting up and leaving. Vampirella shuffled forward on all fours and sniffed at the content of the bowl. It was filled with freshly ground beef, completely raw and bloody, the only form of sustenance that had been allowed her for the weeks since she arrived.

As a vampiress, Vampirella did not have to eat food in the human sense. She needed only blood. She would very much have preferred to bite the jugular of her captors, and draw the warm blood directly from their body. This conferred certain advantages. It was a much more efficient process as her body's supernatural chemistry could instantly absorb the energy from the blood. Another advantage was that she never had to urinate or shit. But she could eat and drink in the same way humans do, but it would only be for the pleasure of the taste, for the only useful part her body will absorb is the blood. The others became urine or shit that was dumped from her body in the same way as in human bodies.

Vampirella never imagined that this aspect of her biology would be turned against her in a most perverse way. In her captivity, she was fed only with the bloody ground meat. Her only source of blood came from the raw meat. She could not separate the meat from the blood, and she had to take both together. This meant that the meat would be digested and processed into shit by her body.

And Vampirella could not shit with the butt-plug in her ass.

Vampirella remembered the first time she had to go. The pressure in her bowels had built up to an intolerable level, and she had not been able to pull the plug out from her ass, with her hands encased in the bondage mittens, even though she tried. Her predicament must have been observed through some close circuit television, for the Prince had appeared shortly after in front of her cage. He had opened the cage and stepped in. She had looked up at him with the intense hatred she felt in her heart, but the pressure in her bowel was intense. Conflicting thoughts raced through her mind as she looked up at him, before her need to go finally got the better of her.

"I need to go. Get the plug out from me." Vampirella had demanded.

The Prince had slapped Vampirella across her cheek. The leather of her helmet had protected her face, but she had still been jarred.

"Beg!" the Prince had demanded.

Vampirella had refused to do that, and the Prince had left her, leaving her with the increasing urge to shit. She had squirmed and twisted, and she had tried to grab her butt-plug again. Finally, she had given up. When the Prince appeared again, she finally swallowed her pride.

"Please. I need to go. Please, let me go." Vampirella had begged.

That earned Vampirella a second slap.

"Dogs don't talk. Only humans do. Beg like a dog. Raise your paws and whimper." The Prince had demanded.

Vampirella had had to fight down the flash of anger, and get on her knees, and had raised her wrists up in front of her like bent paws, and whimper like a puppy. The Prince had smiled with great satisfaction. Vampirella had so badly wanted to wipe off the smile with a swipe of her talons, but she had no choice but to raise her butt up to allow the man to unstrap the butt-plug, and pull it out of her. Then, he had stood over her, and watched while she relieved herself in her own cage. She had not wanted to, but she had to as she could not hold it in anymore. Then, just to add to the humiliation, she had to allow the man to wipe her ass off with toilet paper before the plug had been replaced and strapped in place. She had then been left in the cage with her own shit until the next morning, when one of the guards came around with a hose to spray the cage down. For good measure, the guard had hosed her down. From that day on, everytime she had to go, she would have to assume the position of a doggy begging when a guard appeared. The guards invariably enjoyed witnessing her shame as she was unplugged and relieved.

Vampirella turned her head slightly to get the snout of her bondage helmet out of the way as she ate from the bowl out of the corner of her mouth. She had refused to eat in this manner in the beginning, but her captors had dealt with that defiance by hooking the D-ring on her collar to a ring embedded in the concrete floor, placing her face inches off the ground, and shoving the bowl before her face. The smell of the blood in the meat had finally overcome her defiance, and she had to eat from the bowl.

Vampirella knew what was happening. Her captors were stripping away her dignity, layer by layer. At each layer, she had been presented with no choice but to accept the degradation. There was nothing she could do about it.

And Vampirella's captors seemed to be well aware of her biological needs. There was never enough blood in the meat to full nourish her. While she would not become malnourish as humans would if not fed a balanced diet, the little blood she could get from the meat kept her physically weak. This, of course, made the work of her captors easier. It also had the side-effect - no doubt intended - of making her unfocused and lethargic.

Vampirella finished the meat in her bowl and crawled back to the back of the cage, and curled up. She was starting to fall asleep again when a series of footsteps came up to her cage. The gate was opened, and a guard stepped into the cage. She sat up when she saw that he had a leash in his hand. She knew better than to defy the guard. The first time she had resisted being led around by the leash, she had been punished in the most perverse manner possible. The guards had come in and grabbed her out of the cage, and dragged her to a cage towards the end of the kennel.

That cage had a steel ring anchored to the centre. Vampirella's neck was secured to the ring by means of a double-ended snap-hook attached to the D-ring on her collar, her face inches off the floor. This forced her to rest on her elbows. Then the manacles around her wrists were pulled together next to the ring, and a second double-ended snap-hook used to link them together through the steel ring. Her ankles were spread, and secured by double-ended snap hooks to two steel rings embedded a foot apart in the concrete floor behind her. This left her in a doggy position on her knees and elbows, with her butt sticking up.

The Prince had appeared to witness the punishment.

"Why do you always have to do it the hard way?" the Prince had asked. He had a bottle of some sort of liquid in his hand, and a brush. He opened the bottle, and dipped the brush into liquid. He had then smeared the liquid on her vulva lips, using the bristles to penetrate past the lips into her vagina as well.

"Just in case you are wondering, it's a pheromone secreted by bitches when they are in heat." The Prince had said with a menacing smile.

A large black mastiff had then been brought into the cage and led round to the front of the captive vampiress for her to see. Vampirella saw to her disgust and horror that the gigantic dog was obviously turned on by the pheromone. The penis of the dog was extending between its hind legs, and it looked formidably large and long. Her captors had unleashed the dog and left the cage, shutting the gate and watching from the outside. She had struggled with her bondage, but she could not break free. The dog had circled her, obviously trying to understand what was happening. She did not look like any bitch that it had seen, and it was confused. But its nature had soon took our, and it had circled round to her back. She had felt his nose sniffed her crotch. Then it had lifted its body up and rested its front paws on her back. She had screamed as its penis entered her cunt. From that day on, she had not made any resistance whenever a guard appeared with a leash. She knew what the punishment would be.

Vampirella was led out of the cage by the leash, and she crawled on all fours behind the guard like an obedient dog. Vampirella's captors had allowed her only limited amount of exercise. Once a day, a guard had come to her cage, clipped a leash to her collar, and led her out of the cage to crawl up and down the kennel on all fours. The sting was, of course, that as she was marched past the other cages, her humiliation was open for all to see. The eyes of the guards and human 'dogs' present followed her luscious body as she crawled on the tiled floor, her large breasts swinging beneath her and her full round buttocks swivelling behind her, wagging the upraised rubber tail.

When they reached the end of the kennel, Vampirella expected the guard to turn back, as they usually do. But this time, he had turned the handle on the door and opened it. Instantly, a hot blast of air hit her in the face as the air from outside rushed in. Then she was led out of the building.

Vampirella had never been allowed outside of the long building since she first arrived, and she had no idea of the place to which she had been relocated. Now she could see that the kennel had been but one building in a large compound enclosed by high brick walls. The watch towers at intervals made the place looked like a prison, but the gardens within the wall were expertly laid out with water fountains and beautifully designed beds of flowers. She could see a large mansion to one side, constructed in the style of a Moroccan palace. But it was not the palace that she was to be led to. Her guard had tugged at the leash and led her towards a drive-way, where a Land Rover with heavily tinted windows was waiting. The rear of the Land Rover was open and she could see a cage in the back of the vehicle.

The guard took something out from his pocket, and Vampirella saw that it was a rubber bone, like the sort that pet owners give to their dogs to keep them from chewing other things. But this bone had a leather strap at each end. One of the leather strap had a buckle at one end, and the other had small holes running down its length. It was not difficult to figure out what the bone was for.

The guard pulled back on the snout of Vampirella's bondage helmet, forcing her to lift her head up and part her jaws. The bone was forced between her teeth, and the leather straps secured together behind the back of her head. The bone, thus, formed a sort of bit gag across her mouth, taking away her ability to speak.

"In." the guard commanded, gesturing towards the rear of the Land Rover. Vampirella obeyed with some difficulty. She had to placed her front paws - hands, she reminded herself - before lifting up her body into the Land Rover. She shuffled into the cage, and it was closed behind her. The rear door was then shut and three guards climbed into the front of the Land Rover. It was started up and driven out of the compound.

Vampirella could see now that the compound was situated in a desert. Sand dunes could be seen in the distance, together with a cloudless blue sky. The road they were driving on was the only sign of civilisation as far as the eye could see. It was hours before she saw human activity as the Land Rover drove through a town and its busy bazaar. The Land Rover had to slow down, and Vampirella could see the throngs of people around the vehicle. But, alas, they could not look into the vehicle and see the helpless captive imprisoned in it, and gagged as she was, she could not call out for help. Then the Land Rover drove past the crowd, and they were on an empty road again. Finally, the vehicle turned up a track and came to an oasis. It came to a halt and the rear door was opened, and the cage unlatched. Someone grabbed her leash, and she was led out of the Land Rover onto the soft sand. She looked up and saw a large Bedouin tent placed in the shade of the palm trees, next to a pool. Looking at her from the entrance to the tent was the Prince.

The Prince had had the entire oasis surrounded with a fence made from stakes and cloth, surrounding the spring that watered the oasis. Water from the spring collected into a small pool. The tent was pitched right next to the pool, serving as a sort of gate house through the fence.

Vampirella was led by the leash through the tent by the Prince, whose interior was richly decorated with plush carpets and hug piles of cushion, to the pool. No guards followed them as she crawled on the ground next to the man who was wearing a costume that belonged to that of a Bedouin sheikh, with the proper headdress, but with a loose robe opened at the front to expose the firm rippling muscles of his chest and abdomen.

As she crawled next to him, Vampirella felt herself very turned on indeed by the sight of her captor. She wondered at this feeling after how she had been tormented over the past three weeks and after how she had been reduced to nothing more than a pet. She had felt the first stirrings of such emotions when she was the pony slave of the Cowboy. After the initial humiliation, she had felt strangely comfortable with the notion of being owned, being treated as a property, to be used as her owner saw fit. It was almost a perverse version of feeling needed and valued, as opposed to her normal existence of an agent of vengeance, hunting alone in the night, unappreciated and unloved.

Vampirella recalled the moment when she had gotten out of the Land Rover and crawled towards the tent. How the Prince had looked at her. There was lust there, no doubt. There was the look of triumph on his face at how he had conquered such a beautiful and powerful creature, and debased her utterly. But there was also a certain look of pleasure in his eyes at seeing her. It had brought her a measure of unexpected pleasure. The Prince, almost as if he was reading her mind, reached down to pat the top of Vampirella's head as he led her out of the tent into the oasis.

Vampirella saw that there were six women in front of the pool. They were all naked, but their heads were all covered with veils - an odd combination of exposure and modesty. Perhaps the Prince was only interested in their bodies, and not their faces. All of them had beautiful bodies indeed, well toned and tanned. There was a mixed of ethnicity, from Caucasian to Asian to African, but they were all tall with long limbs and firm breasts. Each of the women was fettered in light golden chains that linked cuffs around their wrists to a gold chain belted around their narrow waists. The lengths of the chains were such that these women would have retained their full freedom of movement, but the chains remained powerful symbols of bondage.

The women approached the Prince when he emerged from the tent and bowed.

"Wash her." The Prince commanded. One of the women, with Asian skin, stepped forward and took the leash from the Prince. She led Vampirella to the edge of the pool. There, a spike with an eye-hole at its tip had been drive into the ground, and the woman used a double-ended bolt snap to secure the ring in the centre of the chain linking her wrist manacles to the eye-hole. The other woman came up to her, and pulled back her ankles until she was raised on all fours in a doggy position. The women first took off the manacle around her right ankle, and then the boot on her right feet. Instead of replacing the manacle around her ankle, they took it off the chain, and encircle her ankle with the end of the chain instead. They lock the chain in place around her ankle with a strong padlock. They turned to her left leg, and repeated the process.

The women proceeded to Vampirella's arms. One of the women now took a firm hold of her leash, ready to yank it back should the vampiress show any signs of resistance, to permit her sisters to work in peace as they took off the manacle around her right wrist first. They then stripped off the sleeve on her arm. The women then removed the manacle and chained her wrist as they had done with her ankles, before moving on to her left arm, and doing the same. This left her hands free for the first time for a long while.

The women now turned to the bondage helmet covering Vampirella's head. They took off her rubber bone gag first, before undoing the fastenings on the helmet and lifting it off. It was the first time it had come off since her captors had first put it on her head, and even the hot desert wind on her face felt good.

However, the women did not keep Vampirella's mouth void for long. Her head was yanked back and a black rubber ball almost three inches in diameter forced between her jaws. It was held in her mouth by a thin leather strap that penetrated its centre and buckled behind the back of her head. It was only when her mouth had been secured that the women removed the chain linking her collar and the chain between her wrists, and then the collar itself. The collar was replaced by a simple choke chain around her neck. The chain had a steel ring at one end, and the women used a fifth padlock to secure the ring to the chain securing her wrist manacles.

The women had worked efficiently and quickly throughout the process. At no point did they allow more than one of Vampirella's limbs to be free. Even the free limb was effectively controlled by the women with well-practiced wrist lock techniques.

The new form of bondage that had replaced the previous one, while less strenuous, was still strong and unbreakable. As the chains now encircle her wrists and ankles directly, the length remaining between her limbs was also shorter, making her movements even more restricted than before. And the short choke chain connected to her wrist chain ensured that any excessive motion would result in the chain tightening around her throat. Vampirella was still very effectively controlled.

When Vampirella had been thus secured, the women turned to the only remaining part of her bitch costume. The women unstrapped the butt-plug from around her waist and hips, before pulling it free unceremoniously. The captive vampiress whimpered into her gag from the pain, but was glad that it would now be gone from her asshole, for time being at least, for she had little illusion that the intrusions of her anus was now at an end.

The last thing to go was Vampirella's red and white costume. The front clasp of her costume at her throat was undone, and it was pulled down off her torso until it was around her thighs. Then, it was cut free from her legs, and she was completely naked for the first time since her captivity started, glistering in the sun from her perspiration and accumulate grime from her brutal captivity.

The women now unhooked Vampirella from the spike in the ground, and connected a leash to her choke chain. The women led her to the water. Although her bitch costume was gone, she still had to crawl on all fours like a dog, and led around by the leash. She understood that her status as a pet had not changed at all, and the change in bondage was merely for the convenience of cleaning her. Still, she was grateful for the luxury of the cool water against her skin as she entered the pool.

The women proceed to scrub her down with bath mittens and bath gels, making sure that they washed every part of her. Even her lips were pushed up and her teeth rubbed down. Special attention was paid to her erogenous zone. Vampirella felt the coarse material of the bath mittens rubbed vigorously against her vulva lips, parting them, and then inserted into her cunt. Her clitoris was mercilessly assaulted while another hand inserted itself into her asshole and rubbed it in circular motion. She almost fainted with ecstasy and she trashed in the water at the treatment, but one of the women held her firmly by the leash. When, at last, they were done, Vampirella could hardly move, exhausted as she was from the treatment. She had to be carried out of the water between two of the women, while the other women dried her down with towels.

"Dress her up for the night." The Prince ordered. He had, no doubt, been watching the whole time.

Vampirella was led into the tent. She was brought to the front of a wooden trunk. It was opened, and the women took out several wooden boxes from within the trunk. One of the boxes was opened, and she saw a pair of dildos in them, similar to the one that had been inserted into her when she was first captured. She shook her head at the sight of the two large objects, disappointed that her bottom orifices were to be plugged again, but no heed was given to her as she was forced into a doggy position again. The two dildos were lubricated, and inserted unceremoniously into her.

The butt-plug had no difficulty going in at all, as Vampirella's asshole had already been well stretched by the butt-plug tail. The dildo encountered more resistance as she had not had to accommodate a dildo in her cunt for some time. As its ribbed shank went up her tunnel, she shuddered at the sensation. Once the two objects were in, the women opened a large box and took out a metallic object. It was a chastity belt made from stainless steel. It was opened in front and hinged at the back. The belt portion was placed around her waist and latched in place, before the crotch piece was swung up so that a slot on its face mated with a corresponding eyebolt on the front of the belt. This allowed the crotch piece to neatly cover the latch holding the belt together. One of the women took an ornate but strong looking lock, and inserted it into the eyebolt, and locking it with a snap. The chastity belt could not be removed now without the key to that lock.

Vampirella was pulled up to a seated position. The women took a belt, covered in dozens of small bells and tied it around her waist. The width of the belt was such that waist band of her chastity belt was concealed. A necklace made out of small ruby-like stones - she was not sure if they were real - was then placed around her neck, which concealed the choke chain around her neck.

The women now began to dress Vampirella's hair. Her raven black hair was combed back, and oiled with perfume, before being tied into a tight pony tail high on the back of her head. The women then took out a make-up kit and set to work on her face, putting on a pale foundation, followed by rogue on her face. They lined her eyes thickly with a black pencil, before putting thick mascara on her eyelashes. They ended the process by applying a blood red lipstick to her lips, with the black gag still in her mouth. A red veil was now placed over Vampirella's face, covering her nose and her gagged mouth, and then secured around her face by a pin in her hair behind her back. They took out a mirror and showed Vampirella how she looked. She had to admit that she looked very appealing in the costume and make up, with her breasts bare in front of her.

"Excellent." The Prince said, as he entered the tent and observed the result, "You only have to put on the last part of your costume, and you'll be ready for the party."

Vampirella could not hear what was being discussed in the tent. She had been placed behind a thick curtain, which cut out much of the conversation. She only knew that there were many voices, which added only to her distress, as she realized that, soon, she would be put on public display before a crowd.

Vampirella had been secured to a platform, with her legs about a foot apart, with stainless steel manacles secured to the top of the platform. Her arms were raised up, and folded such that her hands were clasped together behind her head, exposing her armpits, which had been carefully shaved and perfumed. Her wrists had been secured by another set of stainless steel manacles to the choke chain around her neck. They were secured such that should she try to pull them apart from each other, the chain would constrict around her throat, choking her before the chain come anywhere near snapping. A chain had been secured to a steel support that rose up from behind her to arch over her head, hidden behind the folds of the fabric of the tent. The other end of that chain was connected to her choke chain, behind her neck, holding her in a standing position. Should she try to bend even slightly, the support chain would pull the choke chain tight around her neck.

Vampirella remembered that she had not put up much of a fight when they released the chain linking her wrists from the choke chain around her neck, and pulled them back to secure them behind her neck. She had been too distressed. The women had just put the final bits of her costume on her. These were two nipple shields of gold. And they were held around her nipples by pins that pierced through her nipples. The women had used a local anaesthetic to dull the pain, but given that she had already recovered from the piercing given to her by the Cowboy, the piercings still stung. Even now, her nipples were throbbing under the shields from which a pair of golden tassels hung. Any movement she made caused the tassels to swing from side to side like pendulums, complementing the juggling of her unrestrained breasts. And, of course, they were convenient stress points to keep her docile when her arms were being chained in place. Any signs of defiance will end her a sharp tug on both the tussels.

Vampirella had been left in this stressful and uncomfortable position for what seemed like hours now. She had at first been grateful for the fact that she had been allowed to stand up straight and stretch her body, after spending so long crawling around on all fours, but this new position had become stressful as well. As she shifted her weight slightly to her right feet again to give her left feet a rest, causing her breasts to juggle and the tassels on her nipple shields to swing, she could not help but wonder about the performance she was supposed to give. The word implied that she was to do something, not simply be put on display, but her captors had never explained what it was she was to do.

Suddenly, without warning, the curtain in front of Vampirella parted, and light flooded into the little alcove she had been standing in. The sound of vigorous clapping greeted her ears, and she was startled to see just how many people were in the tent. They were all men, and they were all looking at her, devouring her nakedness with their eyes, which ran up and down her body, most often resting upon her magnificent breasts. It was yet another humiliation inflicted upon her, but, strangely, she actually felt a sense of pride mixed in with the shame at being the subject of such admiration.

"My dear friends, now that we have concluded our business, let me provide you with some entertainment this evening. This is the latest addition in my harem. She is a little new, so you must excuse her if she is not as skilful as the others that you have seen before, but I am sure you will appreciate her beauty, her heavy breasts, her long limbs, her narrow waist. But more importantly, I am sure that you will appreciate the fact that she is a true vampire."

The last comment drew a surprised response from many present, and some of them leaned forward to get a closer look, but Vampirella's mouth was still covered by a veil. The Prince stood up from his pile of cushion. He walked up to the prisoner, and drew the veil aside. Behind the veil, Vampirella's mouth was still gagged. The man lifted up her upper lips, exposing her sharp canine teeth. The men muttered excitedly amongst themselves.

"This vampire is like no others. She can walk in daylight, and is more powerful than any other individual vampire. Indeed she is a hunter of vampires. Her name is Vampirella."

Hearing her own name again came as a shock to Vampirella. She did not understand why, but being named seemed like an act of shaming to her. The very fact that she had been named while she stood on display before strangers seemed to emphasise the fact that she was no longer her own mistress.

"And tonight, the once proud and mighty Vampirella will be reduced to nothing more than a dancing slave, displaying her charms for your pleasure." With those words, the Prince clapped twice.

A quartet of Arabic musicians with traditional instruments began to play. Before Vampirella knew what hit her, the dildo in her cunt and the butt-plug in her ass suddenly sprung into life. She had never felt such powerful vibrations before, and they sent pulses of shock waves through her. Her body shook violently almost out of its own volition. As she did so, her breasts juggled in front of her, and the tussles seemed to dance before her nipples. With her ankles clamped to the platform, and her neck secured to the steel support behind her, the violent shaking of her tautly stretched body was translated into gyrations in her hips. The vibrations come in pulses, arranged in synchronisation with the music from the band, increasing in intensity when the music reached a crescendo and falling away when the music slowed down. This, in turn, caused her body to respond in line with the music. It was a devilish arrangement. She was in effect made to do a crude sort of belly dancing as the powerful vibrators shook away inside of her.

The performance was crude, as the Prince had warned, and it was not really belly dancing, but the audience did not seem to mind. They cheered and hooted as Vampirella quivered before them, screaming in agony into her gag from the rough treatment of the vibrators. They knew that she was being forced to dance, and the idea excited them. No doubt many of them were already forming fantasies about what they were going to do with her when they get their hands on her. Almost certainly, they had already doubled the amount that they had intended to bid for her in the first place.

As the rhythm of the music became more and more intense, two of the women who had bathed and prepared Vampirella for the evening emerged from the sides, still starkly naked with the exception of the veils across their faces. Each of them carried a cat-o-nine-tails. They stepped up next to the gyrating vampiress, and began to swing their black leather whips to the beat of the music.

Vampirella screamed into her gag as the tentacles of the whip dug into the flesh of her rump. The two women were merciless as they worked their whip against her buttocks. They were playing her like an instrument, using the whips to cause her to gyrate her hips in pace with the music. The blows from the whips, together with the pulsation of the vibrators in the vampiress, pushed her body to move even vigorously. It seemed to adopt a rhythm independently of her mind as it grew accustomed to the music, to the pulses of vibration in her, and to the blows of the whip on her buttocks.

"Mmmph! Mmmmmmmmph!" Vampirella screamed and screamed, but her gagged cries were drowned out by the music. She knew that there would be no mercy even if her captors had heard her, and she could only closed her eyes, and pray that it would all be over soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Prince finally put up his hand to put an end to the performance. Almost as quickly as they had started, the vibrations within her, and the blows on her buttocks stopped, leaving Vampirella panting and perspiring. She held limply on to the chain holding her up with her hands, as she felt too weak to support herself only with her feet. She looked at the audience before with what she hoped was a look of defiance.

"I hope you enjoyed our little performance tonight." the Prince said to the audience, smiling. The audience leapt to their feet and applauded enthusiastically. The Prince glowed with pride as he turned to the chained Vampirella and whispered, "You have done well, my little pet. You have done very well indeed."

Vampirella was too exhausted to even look into the eyes of the Prince and show him the hatred that she felt in her heart.

Over the next few weeks, Vampirella's existence alternated between being the Prince's bitch slave and his dancing slave. After her first performance, she had been forced to 'dance' for the next few nights, entertaining the Prince's guests, whom she found out were actually his customers, there to purchase the latest and most exquisite white slaves from the Prince. The man was known to be able to lay his hands on the most exotic and difficult merchandise. Later, she found out that some of these women, like her, had been hunted and trapped, while others had been seduced, and after a night of passion, woke up to find themselves trussed up and gagged on the Prince's private jet, on their way into slavery.

Vampirella had seen the latest batch of slaves that the Prince was putting up for auction as she was dragged from the tent after her performance. They had been put in cages behind the tent, hidden from view by a great tarpaulin, stacked up two high. There must have been dozens of cages, each occupied by a beautiful woman. It was an eclectic mixture, ranging from Africans to Asians to Nordics. All of them were beautiful and in superb physical shape. All of them were stark naked, their charms fully exposed to view. All were bound with their hands tied behind their backs with silken cords and gagged with a dog collar around their necks, from which a tag hung with a number. As she looked at them, she saw that some seemed to have accepted their fate with stoic resignation, while others were sobbing in fright or despair.

Vampirella was given a 'privileged' existence compared to these women. Although her captors were careful to keep her bound and gagged, they had arranged a special cage for her, much larger than those for the other women. The hard wooden floor of the cage was lined with straw to cushion her body, something that her captors had not bothered to provide for the other slaves. The next morning, Vampirella saw why. The cages had trays inserted underneath them, into which the slaves would relieve themselves through a hole to the rear of the cage. This was done in public. A slave had no privacy.

After the second night's performance, Vampirella had been taken down from the platform, but instead of being returned to her cage, had been frog tied with silken cords, and placed next to the Prince. He had put a leash to the choke chain around her throat as a means to control her, and pulled her sweaty body closed to his, laying her head in his lap. As the proceedings began, he stroked her hair and fondled her breasts.

The women were brought into the tent in batches of three, linked to one another by chains on their collars. They had all been washed down, and made up, but no costume was put on them so as not to interfere with the process of viewing. For the second night, no buyer was allowed to touch the women. They could only view them, and note down the number that they were interested in. Each of the slaves was released from the others, and forced to climb onto the platform, then turned every which way according to the requests of the customers. If they refused or was too slow in complying to instructions, one of the veiled women present would not hesitate to discipline them with a cat-o-nine tails. There were very few such cases.

After the third night, only those women, whom the customers were interested in, were put up again. The rest, which were not many, whom no customers had expressed an interest were shipped off immediately. The women were now brought into the tent all at the same time, and arranged in a circle. Those customer who had expressed an interest in one could now go up to the woman to examine her physically, fondling her breasts, opening her mouth to look at her teeth, touching her buttocks to make sure that they were firm. Finally satisfied, they would begin the bargaining process, only after some more entertainment, that is, another performance put up by Vampirella.

The Prince had received some discreet inquiry about Vampirella. She was clearly the most exotic of the lot at the desert slave auction. The fact that she was a vampiress added to her allure. Not only was it very rare to have a vampiress as a slave, but a vampiress could last for a very long time indeed in slavery. They would not grow old with years, and their bodies would retain the youth and suppleness even after mercilessly hard use. Vampirella shuddered to think about spending the rest of her very long life chained up as a slave.

The Prince had declined all offers, some of which were for sums almost unheard of for a slave, even one that was of the most expensive type, a supermodel or a movie star. The Prince simply said that Vampirella was his personal slave. But he did casually mention that he would consider putting her up for sale should he ever tire of her. In truth, Vampirella was already serving his purpose quite well, as the customers were generally willing to pay more for the other slaves than previously, perhaps in the hope that they would be considered favourably should the Prince decide to part with his favoured slave.

Thus, the Prince had returned to his palace in high spirits, with Vampirella riding by his side in a BMW SUV, instead of in a dog cage in the back of a Land Rover. She had been placed back into her bitch costume by the veiled women, who returned every bit of that detested garment, piece by piece, onto her body. The bondage helmet with the dog-like snout and ears, the arm-length mittens, the posture collar, and the horrid oversized butt-plug with the rubber tail, which replaced the chastity belts and the two dildos that had been within her.

The only item that was not returned was her own red and white costume. The women had left the nipple shields with the tassels on her. But in place of Vampirella's high-heeled boots, they had put a new pair of boots on her. It was made of glossy black PVC with a front that was laced up along its front, from the ankle almost up to where the top of the boot touched her crouch. The boots were a pair of cruel contraptions, for they held her feet permanently in a tiptoe position. The heels were almost ten inches long, and reached down at an angle almost parallel to the boots, forming a pair of U-shapes. 'Luckily' for her, she did not have to stand up in them as she was shackled into her doggy position again, on her hands and knees. After she had been bit-gagged with a doggy bone, she was led into the BMW SUV by the Prince himself for the ride, during which she was allowed to lay on the plush leather seat of the passenger compartment, and rest her head on the man's lap, while he had his way with her body.

Once back in the palace, Vampirella became the personal pet of the Prince, going almost everywhere he would go. She was even allowed to sleep next to his bed at night, with the appropriate precautions, of course. She was invariably gagged with something large in her mouth to prevent her from biting, and her arms would be pulled back, and a pair of leather manacles used to secure them together, holding her hands tightly against her side. No chance was taken with her, even though she was completely submissive now to every whim of her captor. To add to Vampirella's helplessness, a pair of opaque goggles would be fitted over her eyes, so that she could not observe her surroundings. She would not know when she was being watched, so she could not make a move to try to escape. She only had to be taught once, when she had tried to grapple with the manacles binding her wrists through the mittens. It was a hopeless task, but it was instantly punished. She felt the blow of a riding crop brought down neatly onto her naked and upraised vulva. The pain was excruciating. She had ceased and desisted immediately, and never made the same mistake again.

Vampirella was brought to the dinning table every night as well. While her master and his concubines dined from the table, she was invariably leashed to his chair, on her hands and knees. She had been taught to assume the begging position, raising her bent paws together in front of her, sticking out her tongue, and panting. Sometimes the Prince would pretend that he did not notice, and she would have to whine like a puppy to get his attention.

Vampirella would be fed 'scraps' from the table from time to time, usually mutton that was done almost raw, with blood still in them. She knew that the bloody meat was not really scraps from the table, for her Master never ate meat that was still bloody, but the fact that she was to be fed from the main table was an added reminder of her subservient role as a slave. She was no longer her own mistress. Even her food was to come from 'scraps' when her Master saw fit to spare from the main table.

To reinforce that message, Vampirella now could only relieve herself when her Master brought her out on 'walks' within the compound of the palace. She would follow behind him in full view of everyone present, her heavy breasts swinging beneath her, her rubber tail wagging behind her as she crawled hard behind him to keep in pace. He would walk her to some spot, usually behind a tree or some brush, and unplug her to allow her to relief herself. She could only do this when the Master saw fit to take her out for a walk. Sometimes, he would either forget or ignore her, and she would have to do everything in her power to get his attention, assuming the begging position, whining, or picking up the leash from the ground in her mouth and crawling up to his side.

Vampirella's life as a bitch slave slowly sunk into a routine for her. There was not that much she could, except be around her Master all day and trying to please him, so that her basic needs would be met. The worst thing that could happen was to be sent to the dog-house. Situated in a secluded spot of the gardens in the compound, this was not the kennel, but a cramp box made out of chain-link fences, completely open to the elements. Worse, it was too small to fit her body, and her head and butt will be protruding from the box, while she lay bound on her hands and knees. Her cunt was completely open to anyone who wanted to use her. Her mouth would also be ring-gagged so that it was open all the time should that person see fit to satisfy himself in her mouth rather than in her cunt. She had been sent there only once, for two days and nights. She did not know why she had been sent there, only that the master had been displeased, and had paddled her buttocks with a rolled up newspaper, before putting her in the dog-house. It was a horrid experience as a stream of men came and went, making full use of her vulnerable position to satisfy their own needs. By the time they let her out, her body was cramped from the stressful position and the cruel usage that it had been put through. Then, inexplicably, the master had taken her back into his bed, treated her tenderly, and then lulled her to sleep on his bed after a wild fucking session.

Confused as she was, Vampirella knew that her future depended entirely on the whim of the Master now, and she was determined to please him in every way possible. She learnt to behave exactly like a dog would in all respects. She pleased him so well that the man decided to put her into a new costume, or, rather, more accurately, put her into a new skin. She was placed in a catsuit made of transparent latex, covering her from neck to toes. The latex had black spots all over, and when stretched against her pale skin, gave the impression of black spots on white fur. Her black bondage helmet with its upturned ears was also replaced, by one that was white with black spots. The ears were floppy and rested against the sides. Both her boots and mittens were replaced by ones with a similar scheme. The last to be substituted was her tail, and she was given one that had faux fur on it, in the same black spots on white pattern. The result, when they showed it to her in the mirror, was a more than passable imitation of a Dalmatian.

The Master had smiled proudly, and bestowed upon her a new dog collar to replace the constricting posture collar. It had sharp spikes coming out all around it, with a simple plate in front that said, "Spot". That was to be her name from then on.

After her total transformation into a bitch, Spot became even more devout to her Master. Her past life of a lonely crusader was slowly becoming nothing more than a faded memory as she received all the warmth and attention from her Master that she had always craved for. The fact that every aspect of her life was controlled, the fact that she was constantly punished or rewarded, seemed to be perverse evidence of the constant interest her Master had in her. The worst punishment that her Master could bestow her now was to ignore her, to banish her from his presence.

Spot led a contented existence in the palace of her Master. Eventually, she was allowed to roam the palace grounds more or less freely, albeit constantly within view of one armed guard or another. She was vaguely aware of the possibility that her Master had ordered the guards to shoot her with their rifles if necessary, or to drive their bayonets into her should she show any sign of escaping, but these were no longer thoughts she dwelled on. She would berate herself for even thinking such awful thoughts about the Master.

The Master would even allow Spot to lay next to him as he discussed business with guests or over the webcam. Her presence had never failed to fill whoever the Master was talking to with envy, which pleased her Master very much. He would then reward her by fucking her silly that night before they go to sleep.

Thus, it came as a total shock to Spot to learn that the Master was about to send her away. She did not know if the Master knew that she had heard him discuss the deal over the webcam with someone faraway. She doubted that he cared. It was a business proposition.

"Yes, I think she's ready for you." The Master had said, "She had become very docile now."

"Not too docile, I hope. I want to put some ideas I have to use." The disembodied voice on the other side had said as Spot padded into her Master's study.

"No, no," the Master had laughed, "Don't forget, she's always an animal deep down inside. That's who she really is. That's what she really is. You just have to bring out the fire in her."

The Master noticed the presence of Spot as she stopped in front of his desk, and squatted down with her hands on the floor between her legs. She stuck out her tongue and panted like a dog.

"Oh, Spot's here," the Master said, turning his laptop computer around so that the webcam is pointing at her, "Why don't you say hi!"

Spot looked up to see a familiar face. She could not place it at first, then suddenly connected a famous name to the face. She barked twice to indicate her enthusiasm.

"Well, well, it certainly looked as if you've trained her well." The head on the laptop screen said as Spot shook her rump to make her tail wag behind her. It was a skill she had become very adapt at. The Master laughed.

"You are the first one to capture her and break her. You deserve to win the wager. The money will be in your Swiss bank account before sun down." The disembodied voice said as the Prince turned the laptop around to face him again.

"You are most kind. And I will have her crated and sent to you as soon as possible as you have ordered."

The Prince closed the laptop and got up. He picked up the leash from the desktop and clipped it to Vampirella's collar. She followed him docilely as he led her out of the palace to the large warehouse like structure that she had never been brought to before. Large metal double doors began to slide open with a thud, allowing the man to enter, followed by his captive with her tail wagging behind her as she crawled.

Vampirella looked around her and saw an entire warehouse full of women in cages, stacked almost five high in most places. Some of the cages were being moved by men driving forklifts, who loaded them into a large shipping container on a trailer. She followed the Prince as he walked up to the container, and spoke in an unfamiliar tongue to a man in overalls, who seemed to give him a quick briefing of how the operation was going on. She looked up into the container, and saw a pair of eyes looking down at her. They belonged to a petite young brunette, who was mercilessly bound in a rope body harness with her hands behind her back, and whip marks throughout her body. Vampirella realised with a start that she was suspended in her cage by her rope harness, as her legs had been frog-tied under her, and they were off the floor of the cage. She seemed in obvious agony. Vampirella wondered what she had done to deserve this. Perhaps she had defied her captors, and this treatment had been her just deserts.

The Prince stopped talking, and led Vampirella to a spot in the warehouse, where an open crate had been placed. A pair of wooden stocks had been placed within the crate. One was above the other. The lower one had two holes about a foot apart, while the higher one had three holes, with the one in the middle being larger than the two by its side. It was obvious that the lower one would hold the ankles of a prisoner, and the higher one the wrists and neck. A wooden fitting projected up from the centre of the crate, between the two stocks, rising about a foot off the ground. Two hard rubber dildos projected near to the top of the fitting, and projected towards the higher of the two stocks. Vampirella could just imagine how a prisoner within the crate would be held, with her neck, wrists and ankles securely locked in place, and the two dildos holding her rump up. It would be almost impossible for her to move. Vampirella observed that wires ran out from the back of the wooden fitting in the centre of the crate, and she surmised that these powered vibrators in the dildos.

Vampirella glanced to one side and saw a piece of paper pasted onto the cover of the crate. She noted the address of the crate, and suddenly realised, with a chill, that this crate was meant for her. She was to suffer a long trip in the crate, held immobile with two large objects inserted into her. She almost did not notice the slight tug that the Prince gave to her leash. She turned to follow him, confusing thoughts firing off in her mind, accompanied by conflicting emotions.

"I must leave you now, Spot. I've got some errands to run in town, but I'll be back before this evening." The Prince said, as he walked her out of the warehouse and into the gardens, "But I'll make sure that you are properly prepared for tonight."

The words hung in Vampirella's ears, pregnant with meaning. The Prince led her to the driveway, where he handed the leash to an armed guard, giving him some instructions before closing the car door. The guard saluted, and pulled on her leash. She turned reluctantly to follow the man, aware that for the first time in a long while, she was not being led by the Prince, but a stranger, who could not conceal his lust as he pulled her behind him towards some bushes. It was a familiar route, for that was one of the spots where the Prince allowed her to relieve herself. She followed the guard until they were behind a large bush where they could not be seen. He leaned down, and unstrapped the butt-plug from her waist, and pulled it free.

Vampirella got on all fours, and lifted her right leg in an imitation of a dog urinating. However, the chain connecting her ankles were too short, and she could not lift her leg up far enough. She looked up at the guard and whimpered pleadingly. The guard laughed, obviously enjoying the moment as he leaned down and unconnected the chain from the manacle around the right ankle. As he did so, he lazily thought about how he had never seen her lift her leg to urinate before, although he had seen her shit often enough in a squatted position.

Before the guard could put two and two together, Vampirella reached up with her right leg to encircle the neck of the guard, trapping it. At the same time, her mitten bound hands shot up and gripped the guard's neck and twisted it viciously. She dropped his lifeless body onto the ground, and pulled out the bayonet from its scabbard on the belt of the guard. She wedged it between two rocks nearby, and gripped its sharp blade in her right hand. She pulled her hand away, slicing away the thick leather material over her palm. She repeated the process with her left hand. Then, she peeled the cut leather material aside to let her hands come free. She quickly disconnected all the chains linking her manacles. She picked up the bayonet and quickly cut through the maze of laces binding the ballet boots to her legs. She pulled them off and dumped them aside.

Then for the first time in months, Vampirella was free. She took off the bondage helmet around her head and leaned down to bite into the neck of the dead guard. The warm blood quickly rejuvenated her as she drank her fill.

The carnage that followed was unparalleled in the history of the small kingdom. No guard escape her wrath as Vampirella rampaged through the palace, silently dispatching the guards, one by one. She left the last guard alive for a moment longer to gain a crucial bit of information from him, before snapping his neck.

Miles away, a black limousine cruised down an empty desert road. Without warning, the occupants of the limousine heard a heavy thud on the roof, startling the three men in it. A pair of arms smashed through the sunroof of the car and reached into the front compartment. The bodyguard seated next to the driver drew his pistol from his shoulder holster, but before he could use it, the arms grabbed his neck and broke it. The driver panicked and lost control of the car, throwing the limousine into a ditch.

One of the doors enclosing the passenger compartment opened, and the Prince crawled out of the car, his head bleeding. He stood up slowly, suffering terribly from concussion, trying to focus his eyes. They rested on a tall and shapely figure sauntering up towards him. They focused, and he saw that she was dressed in a black spotted latex costume. It was Vampirella, but not like he had ever seen her before. She had a large pair of leather bat wings on her back, sticking out through rips in the latex costume that she had torn open with her talon-like fingernails, now free of the mittens that had imprisoned them for so long. Her face, now unmasked, while still beautiful, had taken on a more savage and animal like visage. It was a form that she could only take when she was well fed from blood. And her lips were still stained from the feast she had had back in the palace.

The Prince showed genuine fear for the first time. He jumped up and turned, stumbling away from the vengeance of the creature that he had captured and enslaved. She came after him, unhurriedly, step by step, letting him run, toying with him. Then when she grew tired of the game, she tore open his stomach. It took him a long time to die.

The policemen had never seen such carnage before in their lives. A desperate phone call from a guard in the compound who was about to die had prompted the heavily armed officers to raid the palace compound to find every guard dead. The initial speculation that this was a terrorist attack became less tenable when dozens of naked women were found in a warehouse in the rear. Some had already been loaded up, ready for shipment. From documents found in the computers in the palace, they discovered the whole white slavery conspiracy. The matter was quickly hushed up and the women repatriated from whence they came, to avoid a public scandal. They never found the culprit who had launched the attack.

End of Part II


End file.
